


From Them To Us

by kanekki



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Otayuri, Explicit Language, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Humor, M/M, Mutual Pining, One-Sided Attraction, Romance, Set Pre-Canon continues through post-canon, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-10-22 09:26:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 54,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10694157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanekki/pseuds/kanekki
Summary: It takes Yuri and Otabek years of awkward crushes, several international skating competitions, and a series of exes to truly find each other. Lots of other people get tangled up along the way.





	1. look into your eyes, the sky’s the limit

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I was thrilled with the response I got on Tumblr regarding the idea for this fic, so thank you for inspiring me to write! This is a Slow Burn eventual Otayuri fic that is set pre-canon, will be canon compliant, and then go post-canon. The chapters will alternate POV between Otabek and Yuri throughout the fic. Since the fic is set pre-canon, it will be a while before they actually meet one another. I do want to emphasize again that this fic is canon compliant, meaning all of the romantic relationships (such as JJ/Isabella) will be happening here. Again, please remember that this is an eventual Otayuri fic! I remind you of these things so I don't say many spoilers.
> 
> A note: The one-sided Yuuri/Yurio is young Yuri having a very awkward crush on Yuuri, who he sees as an idol. Nothing will occur between them, other than Yuri pining. 
> 
> This first chapter is pure, complete fluff. I hope you enjoy! Please leave me a comment and let me know what you think!
> 
> Much love to [Tash](http://wing--it.tumblr.com) for letting me yell at her about this fic for days. Come find me on [Tumblr](http://kanekkis.tumblr.com) if you want to yell back at me!

Canada wasn’t Kazakhstan, but Otabek definitely wasn’t complaining.

 

Living in North America had it’s perks; a great rink, excellent hockey to watch, and lots of cool and interesting cities to explore. However, over his past year at the rink, one thing had stuck out among the rest. And it was loud, a little obnoxious, superbly talented, and undeniably beautiful.

 

Jean-Jacques Leroy had taken over his entire _life_.

 

Ever since arriving at the rink in Canada a year ago, Otabek had quickly drawn close to JJ, their friendship blooming fast. JJ seemed to take quite an interest in him, despite being comparatively quiet as well as a year younger. It had been four months into training at the rink that their fast-evolving friendship developed into something more.

 

“Otabek, man, your hair is out of control,” JJ had laughed in the locker room one afternoon after a hard practice, ruffling the top of his head, “Just let me shave the back?”

 

Blushing, Otabek gently knocked JJ’s hand away smoothing down his long hair. His stomach was jumping, like each time JJ’s ridiculous smile and bright blue eyes got in his space. JJ had been commenting for weeks on his shoulder-length hair, saying that it would only get in the way of his skating and Otabek should let him cut it. Having him bring it up again when they were alone also brought up a lot of feelings that Otabek had been trying in vain to suppress.

 

 _I want to kiss you,_ he thought desperately, _I want you to kiss me._

 

“Not everyone wants to look like you, JJ,” is what he said instead, smiling teasingly in his direction. JJ pouted, sitting down next to him on the bench, causing Otabek’s heart to race at the close proximity.

 

"Please, Bek? It’ll look so good,” JJ pleaded, his puppydog eyes pulling at Otabek’s restrain. Trying desperately to pretend like he was unaffected by the use of JJ’s nickname for him, Otabek had just rolled his eyes and let out an exaggerated groan.

 

“Fine. But you have to promise to keep the long hair on top,” Otabek said, sticking a finger in JJ’s face, “If you shave it all off, I will never forgive you.”

 

JJ had laughed, clapping his hands together in delight, standing to go get his razor from his bag.

 

 _Wait, we’re doing this right now?_ Otabek thought desperately, _I’m not ready for him to put his hands on me, I don’t think I can handle that. Did he say it would look good? Oh god, he thinks it will look good? Does he think I look good?_

 

While JJ had cut his hair, Otabek sat nervously, trying to stay still and failing. JJ had one hand on the back of his neck, the other gently shaving the back of his head.

 

“Beks, your hair is wild,” JJ laughed, brushing the strands off his shoulders, “Like you.”

 

_What? What does he mean?_

 

“Wild?” Otabek inquired, blushing furiously, “JJ, what…”

 

JJ didn’t answer, only finishing the last of the undercut, putting the razor down and pushing the longer hair to one side. Otabek didn’t have the courage to voice his thoughts, still blushing as JJ brushed the last of his hair onto the floor, sitting down on the bench next to him.

 

“Look I don’t know if this is out of line, but...I’ve really got a thing for you,” JJ murmured, and before Otabek knew it, JJ was kissing him.

 

As first kisses went, it was okay, he supposed, but he was too overwhelmed by the fact that _JJ was kissing him_ to focus on the sensations. The kiss was chaste by any standards, but it still lit a fire in Otabek’s chest, face flushed red as JJ held him steady. After too short a time, in Otabek’s opinion, JJ pulled away, a huge grin on his face.

 

“So we should definitely date, yeah?”

 

It had all happened rather quickly after that.

 

Otabek was very shy, JJ’s experience and charisma overwhelming. Ever the gentleman, JJ had offered to take Otabek out on a proper date to get to know one another. The night of their first date, Otabek was panicking. Not having any friends to ask, he had desperately attempted to get ready alone, styling his hair after watching a video on YouTube, pulling on a decent pair of black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black blazer, putting on some cologne as well. He wasn’t sure where they were going, only that JJ said he should be ready for the cold, so he grabbed a pair of gloves just in case.

 

_I hope I dressed okay, I wish he had given me some kind of clue as to where we were going._

 

Due to nerves, he had gotten ready a little too early, and was sitting on his couch in his small apartment, leg jiggling with nervous energy. He pulled out his phone, scrolling aimlessly through his Twitter feed, trying to distract himself from his nerves. After several long minutes, a text from JJ came through saying he was coming up. Otabek swallowed nervously, walking to the front door of his apartment, jumping a bit with nerves as he heard a knock on the door.

 

Opening the door, he was greeted by an air horn blown _straight in his face._

 

Jumping at the noise, Otabek was startled to see a grinning JJ wearing a bright blue jersey with white stripes, a white maple leaf in the center. The words “TORONTO MAPLE LEAFS” were emblazoned across the leaf itself in blue letters. He had blue and white stripes painted on his face and what looked like a full-sized Canadian flag draped over his shoulders like a cape.

 

He looked utterly _ridiculous._

 

“Um...hi?” Otabek stuttered, getting over the initial shock of the airhorn and the outfit. “Where...where are we going?”

 

JJ’s face fell a little, before stepping in and handing Otabek a folded up jersey that looked like it matched his own.

 

“To a Maple Leafs game, of course!” he beamed, “I know you’ve never been to a real hockey game, so I thought I’d take you. I even bought you a jersey!”

 

_A hockey game? Well, that explains the air horn._

 

Otabek smiled, taking the jersey from JJ’s hands and shedding his blazer so he could pull the jersey over his t-shirt. Once it was on, JJ positively beamed with delight, whipping out his phone.

 

“Dude, we have to document this,” he grinned, “Bek’s first hockey game!”

 

Otabek grinned as JJ snapped the picture, uploading it quickly to Instagram. After he was finished, JJ looked him over, smiling as he saw Otabek’s new hairstyle.

 

“Damn, you look good,” JJ grinned, leaning over to kiss Otabek’s cheek, “I love the hair! And, hell, you even _smell_ good, too. What kind of cologne is that?”

 

Otabek was beet red at the praise, shy and stuttering as he mumbled out something about it being whatever his mom had sent him in the mail. JJ smiled softly, seemingly recognizing how shy Otabek was.

 

“You’re cute,” JJ said, kissing Otabek’s forehead, “Let’s go, yeah? The rink’s in walking distance.”

 

The game had been raucous, the kind of sporting event that Otabek had before never attended. There was so much screaming and foul language, for a moment he forgot he was watching an actual game instead of a bar fight. JJ was teaching him all the cheers and the different penalties interspersed with him yelling at the referees. Toronto was playing a team from Colorado, and the tension was high.

 

The skating was interesting, but Otabek spent most of the game watching JJ.

 

“COME ON REF, WHAT WAS THAT?” JJ bellowed as a penalty was given to one of Canada’s players. He had spent most of the game holding Otabek’s hand, something that he still wasn’t quite over, even after several hours. At one point, JJ got a box of popcorn, delightedly shoving it in his face as the game went on.

 

“Hey, Beks, try some!” he laughed, holding some up in front of Otabek’s mouth. Beet red, he gently ate the popcorn from JJ’s fingers, heart leaping as JJ pulled him into kind of a half hug, cheering as the Maple Leafs scored.

 

After a while, Otabek loosened up and began to cheer along with JJ, getting the gist of the game. When the final timer sounded, the rink erupted with cheers as Canada walked away with a win. His heart was pounding from collective excitement in the rink as well as the emotions he was experiencing being around JJ.

 

At the final buzzer, JJ had even _kissed_ him. It left him a little dazed.

 

As the crowd thinned out, they held hands while they walked from the rink, JJ talking excitedly over the finer points of the game, Otabek interjecting occasionally. After they had made it through most of the throng, they stepped outside onto the street, the large crowd dispersing in every direction.

 

After a few minutes of walking, Otabek realized that JJ had gone uncharacteristically silent. Before he could voice any concern, JJ spoke up.

 

“Hey, Beks?” he asked softly, squeezing his hand.

 

“Yeah, JJ?” Otabek asked distractedly, looking out at the crowd.

 

JJ stopped, stepping in front of Otabek, holding his hands. “Was that your first date?”

 

Otabek blushed beet red, looking down at the sidewalk, unable to look JJ in the eye. “Was it that obvious?” he mumbled.

 

JJ laughed a little, squeezing Otabek’s hands. “No, I just...it was okay, right? We had fun?”

 

_Is...is he nervous?_

 

“Yeah, we did,” Otabek admitted quietly, JJ beaming at the words.

 

“So...does this mean...Beks, do you want to be boyfriends?”

 

_Yes, oh my god, yes._

 

Otabek’s heart skipped a beat, face still red as he nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

 

JJ beamed, pulling him into a hug, kissing the top of Otabek’s head.

 

“Otabek Altin, we’re going to have _such_ a good time.”

 

The next few weeks were a whirlwind. JJ took him out all over Toronto and each day, Otabek fell more in love with him. Being with JJ was a little like riding a roller coaster that never ended. It was _thrilling_ _._

 

Otabek had never had so much fun in his life.

 

The second month they were together and things had locked into a steady rhythm, Otabek had called his parents to tell them the news. His mother was overjoyed, his father happy for him. They both expressed their wishes to meet JJ as soon as possible, and Otabek preened with happiness.

 

He was lucky to have such supportive parents, he knew that. JJ’s parents were equally supportive, and Otabek had the pleasure of meeting them several times at the rink before they were officially a couple. After being together for a while, JJ brought them round to practice and Mrs. Leroy had pulled Otabek into a tight hug.

 

“We’re so happy he’s found you,” she said sincerely, “We can’t wait to get to know you more.”

 

Having their parents’ blessings certainly helped Otabek feel a little more secure. Three months in, they still hadn’t gone beyond kissing. They hadn’t talked about it, but Otabek knew that JJ had definitely more experience than him. Despite being seventeen, JJ had a lot of experience dating, having had multiple boyfriends and girlfriends over the years. Otabek, at sixteen, was much more sheltered, having never dated, or even kissed anyone until JJ.

 

JJ never pushed, never asked for more than the steady kissing they had been doing. Otabek had been bold enough once to grab the front of JJ’s t-shirt, pulling him into a deep kiss that left both of them breathing hard. The spark in JJ’s eyes told Otabek he had definitely made the right move.

 

At competitions, they were more than supportive, JJ all out cheering for him, Otabek clapping enthusiastically each time JJ did well. It was thrilling to have someone to cheer for and even more thrilling to compete against one another. JJ had made a habit of snapping selfies with him after each event, shamelessly kissing his cheek in each one. Otabek uploaded them onto his own instagram, causing his account to rise in popularity due to his connection with his ever charismatic boyfriend.

 

Five months into dating and Otabek’s mind was racing all the time with thoughts of wanting to go further. They had intense makeout sessions, a lot of them, ending up shirtless on couches, JJ leaning over him and kissing him senseless. Sometimes Otabek would initiate, backing JJ into a wall and standing on the tips of his toes to press a soft kiss to his lips, teasing a little until JJ would lean down, deepening it.

 

Through it all, thoughts of what they _were_ and what they _could be_ were floating through Otabek’s head.

 

_What is this? I...I think I may...love him. Does he love me back? Is this what love feels like?_

 

Otabek couldn’t pinpoint the first time he thought about loving JJ, there were too many moments to consider. Sometimes, JJ would appear randomly at his apartment after practice with chinese takeout and movies, chatting happily as they sat on the couch. JJ would drop his head onto Otabek’s lap, talking animatedly while Otabek would absent-mindedly run his fingers through his hair.

 

Other times, JJ would spontaneously kiss him, for no reason. It wasn’t always at the most appropriate of times, but it would leave Otabek flustered each and every time. After a while, he gained enough confidence to kiss JJ first in public, enjoying how much it seemed to make JJ melt.

 

_Is this love? Is this what love feels like? I...I have to know._

 

One afternoon at the rink, Otabek got what he had been waiting for.

 

They were alone, everyone else having gone home for the day, JJ running through the last part of his new step sequence. Otabek was watching him from the edge of the rink, leaning back on the barrier as he stood on the ice. JJ noticed him watching and arched an eyebrow.

 

“Like the view, Altin?” he teased, flexing his muscles. Otabek rolled his eyes, grinning at the movement. JJ turned and went into a graceful kind of pose, the kind that eluded Otabek due to his lack of ballet expertise. It irritated him a little, but he was working on getting over it. JJ skated over, sliding up next to him as Otabek handed him a water bottle.

 

“So, what did you think?” JJ asked before taking a long swig of water.

 

Otabek smiled. “It’s good. Very graceful. Not like me.”

 

JJ frowned, setting the water bottle down. “You are graceful, Beks, just in different ways. You know, you’ve never told me why you hated ballet so much.”

 

He shrugged, looking out towards the ice. “Mostly my summer in Russia. I couldn’t keep up with the Russian juniors, so Coach Yakov placed me in the novice class. There was so much talent and one of them was so incredible at ballet, so _determined_ to succeed. He trained for ballet like he was training for war. I knew there was no way I could top someone like that, so I decided to quit dance and go my own way.”

 

JJ skated around in front of him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “So serious. Well, I’m glad you went your own way. It meant I got to meet you.”

 

Otabek smiled as JJ skated backwards a bit before raising an eyebrow.

 

“Race you around the rink?” JJ asked softly, Otabek smiling back.

 

“You’re on, JJ.”

 

They began to skate on opposite ends of the ice, not worrying about form or stance, only speed and matching each other. A couple of times they passed one another and JJ tried to grab his hand, Otabek pulling away with a smile. After a while they fell into kind of a reckless rhythm, laughing as they chased one another.

 

Laughing breathlessly as they raced around the rink, Otabek felt more free than he ever had before. JJ’s booming laugh and bright smile made his heart race and each time they passed one another, Otabek had an urge to grab his boyfriend and kiss him senseless. His heart was warmed by the _fun_ that JJ brought into his life, each moment precious and light.

 

JJ skated over, grabbing onto both of Otabek’s hands, pulling him into a slow, awkward kind of spin, laughing hysterically as they kind of fell over each other. Otabek gripped the front of JJ’s shirt to steady himself, laughing quietly along with him. His heart leapt as JJ leaned down, capturing his lips in a soft, sweet kiss. The kiss deepened as they embraced one another, their game forgotten. After several long minutes of slow, sweet kisses, JJ pulled back and rest his forehead against Otabek.

 

_His hands are shaking...is he nervous?_

 

“Beks…” JJ said shakily, “I...I want to tell you something...and it’s a really big deal to me, okay?”

 

Otabek nodded, a nervous anticipation growing in his stomach. He wasn’t sure what JJ wanted to say to him, but he knew it had to be a big deal, given how nervous he looked.

 

“I’ve honestly never said this before, to anyone,” JJ mumbled, still with his head pressed gently against Otabek’s, “Beks... _I love you.”_

 

_He...loves me? Oh my god...he loves me. He loves me!_

 

Otabek felt JJ’s shoulders shaking with nerves and a fondness grew inside of him. He leaned up on his toes, pressing a gentle kiss to JJ’s lips, arms wrapping around him gently.

 

“I love you too, JJ,” Otabek sighed, so happy he felt he could burst. JJ grinned against him, kissing Otabek again.

 

 _“Mon nounours,”_ JJ murmured, pressing light, feathery kisses all over Otabek’s face, “ _Mon petit nounours_.”

 

“What does that mean?” Otabek smiled, laughing breathlessly as JJ kissed him.

 

JJ pulled back, a grin as bright as the sun. “My teddy bear, of course!”

 

It was disgustingly sweet, but Otabek blushed anyway, heart full with emotions as their confession and how tenderly JJ was holding him.

 

They continued to hold each other for a few more minutes, laughing softly as they traded kisses. Otabek had a spark of mischief, and decided to duck JJ’s last kiss, smirking softly.

 

“You’ll have to catch me, _mon canard,”_ Otabek grinned, skating backwards towards the edge of the rink.

 

JJ arched an eyebrow, laughing a little at Otabek’s brazenness. “Did you honestly just call me your _duck?”_ he shouted playfully as Otabek skated away from him.

 

They continued to race around the rink, laughing like mad at the playful skating race. Otabek’s heart was so full, he couldn’t contain his joy, and he let out a wild laugh, much louder and looser than normal. The beaming grin on JJ’s face at the sound was enough to set his heart pounding again.

 

_I love him so much. He’s...he’s everything to me. I can’t even really remember what it was like before I met him. It’s like he brought the color back into my life._

 

Little did he know that somewhere, far away in St. Petersburg, another teenager was sitting on different ice, thinking the exact same thing.


	2. when you said 'hi' i forgot my dang name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was stupid, really, an idiotic fantasy to idolize someone whom he had just met, but he couldn’t help it. Just as millions swooned over Victor, Yuri was swooning over another skater. It had all happened rather innocently, just after his portion of events were over. Walking out of the rink back in the private area near the locker rooms, he had walked face-first into a tall, dark-haired stranger.
> 
> “Excuse me, I’m so sorry,” the man said and Yuri looked up into the warmest eyes he had ever seen in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Thank you so much for your lovely comments on the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this chapter! It's a little short, as it's mainly Yuri's introductory chapter, the chapters will get longer from here on out.

Yuri Plisetsky _hated_ practicing.

 

Ever since he had moved his home rink from Moscow to St. Petersburg, his new coaches had been pushing him to excel far past his limits. It didn’t help sharing a rink with someone like Victor Nikiforov, a world champion, someone Yuri felt he had to prove himself to. Yuri had been in awe at first, but when he realized how forgetful and _normal_ Victor seemed to be, some of the fantasy died with that realization.

 

It wasn’t so with other skaters.

 

His first international competition at age thirteen was held in Quebec. He had been more than nervous, desperate to prove his talent to the world. After skating an intense program and adding a quad against Yakov’s orders, he had walked away with his first gold. He was proud, but something else happened that day that paled in comparison to winning a medal.

 

He got his first crush.

 

It was stupid, really, an idiotic fantasy to idolize someone whom he had just met, but he couldn’t help it. Just as millions swooned over Victor, Yuri was swooning over another skater. It had all happened rather innocently, just after his portion of events were over. Walking out of the rink back in the private area near the locker rooms, he had walked face-first into a tall, dark-haired stranger.

 

“Excuse me, I’m so sorry,” the man said and Yuri looked up into the warmest eyes he had ever seen in his life.

 

Mouth gaping a little, he took in the other skater’s appearance. Japanese, by the team jacket he was wearing, with jet black hair, blue rimmed glasses, and a kind and gentle smile. He looked so genuinely _nice_ that Yuri forgot for a moment that he was being spoken to.

 

“Are you alright?” the man said again. Yuri nodded, a blush rising in his cheeks. He suddenly felt extra self conscious of his hair cut, wishing it was spikier and wilder like the young man in front of him, not the embarrassing bowl cut Mila had made him get.

 

“Hi, I’m Katsuki Yuuri,” he said brightly, holding out a hand. Yuri took it, shaking his hand firmly, blushing a little more as the other Yuuri smiled down at him.

 

_Wow, I can’t believe we have the same name. That’s so weird...crap, you idiot, say something!_

 

Before Yuri could open his mouth to introduce himself, a tall Italian man with a ponytail called out to Yuuri, beckoning him over to the locker rooms.

 

“Sorry, my coach is calling,” Yuuri smiled warmly, “It was really nice to meet you! I hope to see you again at the next competition!”

 

Yuri nodded, unable to speak as Yuuri turned and headed towards his coach. He swallowed a little, noticing that his throat had become rather dry and he was suddenly feeling a little unsteady.

 

“Yurachka, hurry up,” Yakov barked from the corner, “It’s time to go watch the rest of the performances.”

 

Yuri nodded, still in a daze as he tried to sort through his feelings. Face still burning, he tore his eyes away from Yuuri’s retreating figure, following Yakov up into the seats. They sat through several mind-numbingly boring routines, things so below Yuri’s league that he felt a little affronted that Yakov had made him watch. Knowing that complaining would only get him yelled at, he sulked, putting a foot out on the seat in front of him and resting his cheek on his hand.

 

“Next up, Katsuki Yuuri of Japan!”

 

Yuri snapped out of his reverie, locking eyes on the ice. Yuuri was wearing a costume that Yuri found a little too understated, almost like Katsuki was _hiding._ He looked nervous as well, hands trembling as he tentatively waved to the crowd.

 

“His coach hasn’t given him enough of his confidence,” Yakov grumbled, “Disappointing.”

 

_But...he seemed so calm before? I wonder why he’s so nervous, does he get nervous skating? Is he any good?_

 

Yuri’s heart pounded as Katsuki’s music started, a soft ballet theme he vaguely recognized. He was captivated immediately by the grace of the way Yuuri moved on the ice, his step sequence absolutely captivating. As he prepped for his first jump and landed it, a triple axel, Yuri let out a breath he was unaware that he had been holding.

 

_His jumps are shaky but his step sequences and spins...wow...he may even be better than Victor!_

 

Yuuri jumped again, a quad now, falling on the ice to disappointed grumbling from the audience. He felt pang of disappointment, but Yuuri got right back up and continued the rest of his program.

 

_What jump did he miss? The quad sal? Maybe...I could practice hard, learn it, and teach him that jump someday. I bet...I bet we could become friends. Ugh, shut up Yuri, what are you thinking?_

 

As Yuuri finished his program to applause, Yuri waited with baited breath to see his scores. He didn’t get on the podium, but he still did well, waving at the audience with a happy smile. Yuri blushed a little bit as the camera zoomed in on Yuuri and his enthusiastic coach, who were both smiling broadly, Yuuri still looking a bit nervous.

 

After Yuuri left and went into the locker room, Yakov called Yuri out to head out to the hotel. Yuri’s grandfather was going to meet him there, unable to attend the performance due to a soreness in his back.

 

_Did you watch me on television, Grandpa? Did you see the other Yuuri? I wonder if you saw what I did in his skating._

 

The car ride back to the hotel was filled with Yakov barking on the phone to Victor, who had apparently forgotten to film one of his practice routines for Yakov to review, and he was furious. Yuri listened to the loud bantering, rolling his eyes as Victor, as usual, got away with murder.

 

_Someday I’ll win more medals than you, Victor. Then I can get away with this, too._

 

When the car pulled up to their hotel, Yuri was pleased to see his grandfather standing out front, leaning on his cane with a kind of grimacing smile that he had come to understand as one he used when he was in a lot of pain. Opening the door quickly, Yuri trotted over, flashing his medal to try and put a real smile on his grandfather’s face.

 

“I did it, dedushka!” he exclaimed proudly as his grandfather placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, looking warmly down at him.

 

“You did so well, Yurachka,” he said happily, “I am so very proud of you.”

 

Yuri beamed with pride as he chatted animatedly to him all the way into the elevator in the hotel. Riding up, he gushed over the other performances he had seen, Yuuri’s in particular.

 

“This other Yuuri, he is in the seniors?” his grandfather asked curiously.

 

Yuri nodded. “Yeah. I think he’s twenty or twenty one. But grandpa, you should have _seen_ the way he skated, I think he may have a one-up on Victor!”

 

His grandfather listened to him ramble on and on for close to five minutes about Katsuki Yuuri before a resigned look crossed over his face.

 

“I thought I’d have a few years left before I had to deal with this,” he sighed, a hand still on Yuri’s shoulder.

 

“Huh?”

 

“You, having a crush.”

 

“I...I do _not have a crush!”_ Yuri spluttered, face red as a beet.

 

His grandfather laughed, just shaking his head as they walked towards their room.

 

“Yurachka, dear, your face is burning,” his grandfather teased gently as Yuri moaned in embarrassment.

 

 _“Dedushka,”_ he whined, “You’re embarrassing me.”

 

Laughing heartily, he pulled Yuri into a side hug, despite having to lean awkwardly on his cane to do so.

 

“Oh, my boy, there’s no one here to be embarrassed by! Tell me more about this Japanese skater, I want to know.”

 

Yuri groaned, mumbling a quiet curse under his breath as his grandfather stopped them at their door, letting go over Yuri and pulling out the keycard, swiping in and opening the door.

 

It was an awkward night, to say the least.

 

All of them traveled back to Russia on the same plane. It was a long flight and Yuri spent most of it sleeping on his grandfather’s shoulder. When they landed, they went back to their apartment, Yuri sleeping for about two straight days before Yakov called and asked him back at the rink.

 

Yuri had a newfound determination now, a plan to stick to. He was going to place top at the junior championships in the next Grand Prix Final, he was going to win gold. Victor was going to choreograph his program, as he had promised years before, and he was going to advance to seniors and skate against Katsuki Yuuri. He knew Victor forgot things sometimes, but Yuri knew that he was different. Victor wouldn’t forget him.

  
It was a flawless plan, except for one thing.

 

“Hey, kid, what’s on your mind?” Mila asked, noticing Yuri staring determinedly at the ice.

 

“I’m not a kid, shut up, hag,” Yuri growled, warming down after practice by the edge of the rink. She only laughed, walking over and sitting behind him, helping to stretch out his shoulders.

 

“You’ll always be a kid to me, Yuri,” she teased as he rolled his eyes. They chatted for a while, or rather Mila talked, and Yuri ignored her. After a minute or two of unanswered communication, Mila finally asked him straight out.

 

“Yuri, what is going _on_ with you? Ever since you’ve got back from Quebec, you’ve been distant. It’s like...all you care about is skating, but you don’t want to practice anything Yakov tells you.”

 

Yuri was silent for a minute, wondering how, or if he even should, explain what he was feeling.

 

“I want to land a quad salchow,” he replied honestly, “Yakov won’t let me try yet.”

 

Mila shifted so she was facing him, a surprised expression on her face. “A quad sal? Yuri, you’re only thirteen…”

 

“I’ll be fourteen soon,” he grumbled, “And I can land it, I know it.”

 

She raised an eyebrow. “Why is it so important? Why that jump?”

 

Yuri blushed in spite of himself, not answering the question. After a moment, Mila gasped.

 

“Yuri, do you have a _crush?”_ she squealed gleefully, clapping her hands together, “Are you trying to impress them?”

 

“What? Of course I don’t have a stupid crush. I’m not a sap like you,” Yuri growled, face still on fire.

 

“Aw, no need to be so angry, little one,” Mila laughed.

 

“Stop _calling me that!”_

 

Yuri stood, storming furiously away to the locker rooms, shoving his skates in his bag and heading out to meet his grandfather. The small, beat up car was there to greet him, classical music coming through the speakers. He opened the passenger door, sitting in the front seat and slamming it shut.

 

“Yurachka, what’s wrong?” his grandfather asked gently.

 

Yuri frowned. “It’s _Mila._ She treats me like a kid! Stupid hag.”

 

“Yurachka, it’s not good for you to be so angry,” his grandfather chastised, “I know you have fire, and passion, but don’t throw away your relationships with others just to try and prove yourself.”

 

Yuri’s face burned as he scowled in the front seat. “Sorry, dedushka.”

 

The car ride was silent after that, Yuri’s thoughts drifting to his conversation with Mila. He knew he had feelings for Yuuri, maybe it was a crush, or admiration, something he couldn’t quite place. But, despite not having a label for it, he knew one thing. He _had_ to skate on the same ice as Katsuki Yuuri one day.

 

_He’s my inspiration. I can’t even really remember what it was like to skate before I met him. It’s like he brought the fire back into my life or something. Ugh, that sounds so damn sappy. So I’ll skate my routine. I’ll make it to the Grand Prix Final. I’ll win with the program Victor will choreograph for me after I win my Junior division._

_And then…_

_Then I’ll get to skate against Yuuri Katsuki._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we will be back with Otabek. Please leave me a comment and let me know if you like it so far!


	3. i remember that night, i just might

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Utterly mortified, he stripped down and stepped into the shower, letting the water come over him in waves.
> 
>  
> 
> _Shit, I cannot believe I just said that! We haven’t even...we’ve only really made out, ugh Otabek you idiot! You know he’s more experienced than you, way to look like the stupid, inexperienced one that you are._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thanks for the great comments and kudos! I'm so happy that people are enjoying this.
> 
> Warning: this chapter contains sexual content, nothing super explicit, but the scene is there.

Otabek knew the second he stepped on the ice that it wasn’t going to be a good practice.

 

First, the rink was far too crowded for his liking, public hours open and some families with young children using the ice. It didn’t happen often, but he hated practicing when it did. He didn’t like the thought of accidentally hurting someone by falling out of a jump or a spin. Not to mention they would play music over the speakers making it hard for him to focus.

 

Trying to get himself in the right mindset, he warmed up as best he could. He had gotten there a while before his coach, using the time to warm up on his own. JJ arrived while he was halfway through his warm up, blowing Otabek a kiss from across the rink. Despite his frustration with the day, Otabek grinned back, raising his hand in a gentle wave.

 

Re-focusing on his skating, Otabek positioned himself for his first set of the day, some spins he had been working on. His coach arrived shortly, working through his new sequence. He ran it over and over, each time a small flaw or technical error making his coach have him re-start. After about an hour, he began to feel strained.

 

He panted hard, leaning down and resting his hands on his knees. It had been a rough practice so far, going over the same jump sequence again and again, pushing his body to the limit. JJ had shot him several concerned glances, but he knew Otabek well enough to not interrupt when he got this way.

 

_If those other kids in my camp in Russia could do this, so can I. I may not be as graceful, but I can be strong. Yuri Plisetsky showed me that. I hope I can thank him one day. I think we’re a lot alike, him and I, in the way we skate. JJ...doesn’t understand that kind of determination. Skating comes so easily to him._

 

After his fifteenth repetition, his coach made him take a break and he skated over to the side, collapsing on a nearby bench. He reached for a towel, rubbing his face and taking a long swig from a water bottle that was next to him. His feet ached, his legs were tired, and he was frustrated at his lack of progress in his program. Leaning down, he rest his elbows on his knees, using his free hand to massage his temples.

 

_Relax. There’s no right way to do this. It’s going to be fine._

 

JJ walked up, and sat down next to him, nudging his shoulder gently.

 

“Hey, Beks, you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?” he asked in concern.

 

Otabek lifted his head up meeting JJ’s worried gaze. He felt a hand on his neck start to rub gently, JJ trying to soothe his stiff muscles.

 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, “I’m just really sore.”

 

JJ frowned in sympathy, moving to sit behind Otabek to work the kinks out of his shoulders. Otabek said nothing, just let himself relax under JJ’s touch. He had gotten over his initial shyness of JJ touching him in public, now enjoying the public displays of affection that JJ would lavish upon him. Otabek was still a little to reserved to initiate most of their PDA, but something gentle and simple like this was very welcomed after his practice.

 

“Have you recovered from your birthday yet?” JJ asked, grinning, “I thought they were going to throw us out of that karaoke place for sure.”

 

Otabek laughed a little. “Yeah, I’m good. I think I could use a quiet night in, though.”

 

“What do you say after this you come to my place?” JJ asked, still working out the knots in Otabek’s back, “We could order in, watch some movies? It’s the weekend, so you can crash as long as you want.”

 

“Yeah,” Otabek murmured, “That’d be nice, thanks.”

 

JJ smiled, leaning over to give Otabek a soft kiss on the cheek before heading back to the ice. Feeling his face heat up at the gesture, Otabek smiled in spite of himself, reaching up his fingers to touch the place where JJ’s lips had been. A shout from his coach broke the spell, Otabek going back into practice mode, adjusting his skates quickly before heading back out onto the ice.

 

Several hours later it was time to head home. Otabek winced as he pulled off his skates, putting bandages on some of his fresh blisters. JJ waited for him in the locker room while Otabek stored his things away in his locker, grabbing his bag and slipping on his shoes. He had landed a fall wrong earlier and while not being injured, it had made his ankle slightly sore.

 

“You’re limping a bit,” JJ observed as Otabek walked over.

 

He just sighed, looking up at his boyfriend. “I had a fall. Nothing serious. It hurts a little, though.”

 

JJ pouted looking down at his ankle, wincing in sympathy. After a moment his eyes lit up, a sudden grin forming on his face. Otabek knew that look, it was the look JJ got whenever he had an idea.

 

“You know, _mon amour,”_ JJ grinned, “I am taller than you. Wanna ride?”

 

Otabek smirked in spite of himself as JJ turned around, pointing a thumb at his back.

 

“Come on, Altin, it’s a one-way trip to my apartment!”

 

Otabek sighed, shaking his head a little and his boyfriend’s nonsense before stepping forward and allowing JJ to bend down at the knees and hoist Otabek up on his back. Otabek draped his arms over JJ’s shoulders, allowing himself to relax.

 

“You good up there, pidge?” JJ asked.

 

“Ye- _pidge?”_ Otabek spluttered as JJ started to walk, “What in the hell kind of name is that?”

 

JJ laughed again. “You know, like a pidgeon. Because you’re perching on something!”

 

Otabek groaned, pressing his face in the back of JJ’s hair. The walk back to JJ’s student apartment wasn’t long, maybe ten minutes. It was a blessing that JJ had his own place, his parents had allowed it so he could have an easier time getting to the rink in the morning as they lived well on the other side of Toronto. His apartment was also much larger and nicer than Otabek’s.

 

JJ whistled cheerfully as they walked, Otabek keeping his face pressed into the back of JJ’s head. When they reached JJ’s apartment building, Otabek slid himself down so they could walk up the stairs together, hand-in-hand. When they reached the door of his place, JJ unlocked it and they walked in, JJ flopping face-first down on the couch.

 

“You can shower if you want,” he mumbled, face pressed into the cushions, “I already did at the rink and I just want to lie here for a bit.”

 

Otabek sighed fondly, walking over and kneeling down next to the couch, pressing a soft kiss to the side of JJ’s head.

 

“Alright. Will you order food?” he asked softly. JJ nodded sleepily.

 

“Thanks for carrying me here,” Otabek murmured, “Maybe you’ll let me ride you again later?”

 

JJ whipped his head around so fast that Otabek worried he pulled a muscle. Otabek’s face reddened as he realized what he had just let slip out of his mouth. He _definitely_ hadn't meant it that way, but JJ’s eyes were dark enough that Otabek _knew_ he was thinking about the alternative meaning.

 

“I, um, I’m g-going to take a shower!” he spluttered, red in the face as he stood up too quickly, racing into the bathroom and shutting the door. To prevent JJ from knocking and prying more into the statement, he rushed over and turned the shower on, hoping it would deter JJ for a while.

 

Utterly mortified, he stripped down and stepped into the shower, letting the water come over him in waves.

 

 _Shit, I cannot believe I just said that! We haven’t even...we’ve only really made out, ugh Otabek you_ **_idiot!_ ** _You know he’s more experienced than you, way to look like the stupid, inexperienced one that you are._

 

He calmed a little as he washed his hair, until he found himself wishing suddenly that JJ was there with him. He closed his eyes, letting the shampoo rinse out while he imagined JJ with him, rubbing his back, washing his hair, hands wandering down his chest and stomach…

 

_No, stop! Stop thinking like this he’s right outside the door!_

 

It definitely wasn’t the first time that Otabek had less-than-appropriate thoughts about his boyfriend, but he usually managed to keep them to himself when he was in bed at night, alone. Now with JJ so solid and real and _there_ right outside the bathroom, it was becoming too much.

 

_I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I mean, we’re in love, right? But...I know JJ’s had sex and I...I wouldn’t have the first clue beyond the kissing and making out that we’ve done. I’m scared I wouldn’t be good enough._

 

Swallowing hard, Otabek reached down to turn off the water, stepping out of the water and grabbing a towel. As he dried himself off, he realized with nervous panic that he had forgotten a change of clothes, his dirty practice clothes in a heap on the floor.

 

_Oh my god, I’m going to have to go out there in my towel, aren’t I?_

 

Wrapping the towel as firmly as he could around his waist, he tried to plot how he could sneak into JJ’s bedroom where he had a few sets of spare clothing. Nervously, he turned of the bathroom light and opened the door a crack, pleased to see that JJ was still on the couch eyes glued to a hockey game on the television. Otabek’s heart skipped a beat as he saw that JJ had shedded some of his own clothes and was sitting shirtless, just in a pair of sweatpants.

 

Moving quietly, he turned to head into the bedroom when he heard a small, strange kind of sound coming from JJ’s direction. Face burning he turned to see JJ staring at him, eyes raking up and down.

 

“Shit, Beks…” he said a little breathlessly, “Sorry, it’s just…don’t normally get to see this much of you at once.”

 

Otabek was blushing, hard, as JJ looked him over. He should be more embarrassed, but having JJ watch him felt _good._ His unintentional comment from earlier about riding JJ was suddenly burning through his mind and he couldn’t get it out. Before his body betrayed him, he tightened his fist around the knot in his towel.

 

“I’m, um...going to get dressed,” he murmured, gesturing towards the bedroom.

 

JJ half stood, putting his arms over the back of the couch. “You know, Bek...you don’t have to.”

 

_What? Does he mean…_

 

Otabek swallowed again, lifting his hand and scratching at the back of his head. He had been hungry before the shower, but now his mind was occupied with a different sort of need, of thoughts of the two of them.

 

_Together._

 

“I mean, only if you’re comfortable,” JJ rambled, and Otabek realized he had been standing quiet for too long, “I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you, I just...know I’m okay. With anything you want to do.”

 

_Anything you want._

 

Otabek had several fantasies before that had started off this way and boldness took him over as he walked forward towards the couch, towel still tied tightly around his hips. JJ stood to meet him, placing a hand gently on his chest, a little reverently, biting his lip as he looked in Otabek’s eyes.

 

“Can I kiss you?” JJ asked breathlessly, and Otabek nodded. It started off slow, but Otabek felt a burning desire to open up to JJ, to push past what they had done before. He opened his mouth, sliding his tongue through his boyfriend’s mouth, running his hands up and down his back. JJ moaned, rocking forward a little, causing the towel to loosen.

 

Otabek felt it, pulling back reluctantly, still breathing hard. JJ groaned, pressing his forehead against Otabek’s.

 

“JJ,” Otabek said quietly, “I want…”

 

He was unable to finish the sentence with words, instead pushing against JJ with his hips, slightly intoxicated by the feeling of the towel loosening more and JJ’s sweatpants riding down low.

 

“Shit,” JJ gasped, leaning down, biting and sucking on Otabek’s neck in the way he knew that drove him _crazy._ Otabek dragged a hand down JJ’s back, boldly going lower than he ever had before, stopping right at the top of his low-riding sweats.

 

“Beks…” JJ groaned, “You’re gonna kill me.”

 

Encouraged by the reaction, Otabek slid both hands down under the waistband of the pants until he was gripping JJ’s bare ass with his hands. He was even bold enough to squeeze a little, the action sending JJ into a frenzy.

 

“Fucking _hell,”_ JJ cried, rutting up against Otabek’s front, “Fuck, can we _please_ take off our clothes?”

 

Otabek swallowed hard, nodding as JJ tugged gently on the towel until it fell on the floor. Otabek was a bit shy as JJ looked him over, but the way his pupils were blown out, he knew JJ was having a good time. Emboldened, he used his surge of confidence to bring his hands up and push down JJ’s sweats until he kicked out of them, both of them standing naked in front of one another.

 

“You’re beautiful,” they both said at the same time before laughing, Otabek leaning up and kissing JJ hungrily.

 

Somewhere between their sloppy kisses, they managed to make it into JJ’s room, collapsing on the bed, face to face. After a while, they pressed together fully, the friction between them something Otabek had never felt before. The grinded against each other for a while until Otabek heard a strange kind of whine come out of JJ’s mouth.

 

“Bek...how...how far do you want to go?” JJ asked, pulling away breathlessly, “Cause if we keep going like this...I’m not sure how long I can last. You’re too damn sexy.”

 

Otabek swallowed hard, breathing heavily. “I...JJ, I want everything with you. I want...I want you to…”

 

He found himself unable to say the words, looking desperately to JJ for acknowledgment and understanding.

 

“Shit, Beks, seriously?” JJ asked, mouth agape, “You want...do you want me to fuck you?”

 

Otabek groaned at the words, kissing JJ’s chest. “Yeah...JJ, _please._ ”

  

“Are you sure?” JJ asked softly, “I know it's your first time.”

 

“I'm sure,” Otabek murmured, “I love you, I've been wanting you like this for a while.”

 

"Fucking hell," JJ sighed, leaning to press a gentle kiss against Otabek's lips. They laid that way for a moment, gently sighing into each other's mouths.

 

After a few moments, JJ stood and got condoms and lube from his bedside drawer. He walked back to the bed while Otabek leaned back on his forearms, watching him closely. He gently guided Otabek down to lean on the blankets. After checking to make sure Otabek was okay with it, he quickly began taking him apart using his fingers until Otabek couldn’t stand it any longer.

 

“You doing okay?” JJ asked as he had two fingers inside, stretching out Otabek gently.

 

Otabek couldn’t speak, the sensations too much. He nodded, closing his eyes as sensations rocked through him. After a while, JJ crooked his fingers in just the right way and Otabek’s hips arched off the bed.

 

“Oh,” JJ said, grinning, “Right there, huh?”

 

Otabek gasped as JJ rubbed at the spot a few more times until he could no longer stand it.

 

“Get in me,” he growled breathlessly, grabbing onto JJ’s arm and looking him in the eye.

 

“Holy shit,” JJ moaned, tearing open the condom wrapper and sliding on the condom. After he added some more lube, JJ kissed him long and hard, and entered him slowly. It was painful at first, but JJ went at a snail’s pace, Otabek relaxing and opening up as time went on. Each time JJ pushed in a little more, Otabek felt more relaxed, until finally JJ was nearly fully sheathed inside him.

 

Sex with JJ was everything Otabek had wanted and nothing like he expected. JJ was slow and sweet, patient and romantic, making sure Otabek felt safe and secure in everything. In fact, if anything, Otabek would have to say that JJ was even a bit of a tease.

 

“JJ, _harder,”_ he whined after what felt like hours of torture, _“Please.”_

 

He heard JJ laugh above him, a little shakily. “Since you asked so nicely.”

 

He began to move in earnest, Otabek moaning each time JJ managed to hit that _spot_ inside him, the one that made him see stars. He felt a coil in his stomach tighten as JJ’s thrusts became more sporadic, a sign he was coming close to the edge.

 

“JJ,” Otabek whined again, not even embarrassed at how needy he sounded, “I...I…”

 

JJ moaned, leaning down and kissing Otabek, hard.

 

“Come on, baby,” JJ panted, _“Fuck.”_

 

It was the way JJ called him _baby_ that did it, sending Otabek’s back arching off the bed as he came silently, eyes closed and mouth open. JJ keened as he followed next, collapsing on top of Otabek’s chest, breathing hard.

 

_That felt...fucking incredible._

 

Otabek couldn’t speak, his heart pounding too loudly for him to form words. JJ kissed him, slowly, passionately, as he gently pulled out, Otabek letting out a displeased whine at the sensation. He wanted JJ to fuck him _all the time,_ it was the best feeling he had ever experienced. JJ had stood quickly to dispose of the condom and while Otabek was still catching his breath, he brought over a warm, damp washcloth from the bathroom and began to clean off Otabek’s chest and stomach.

 

“JJ,” Otabek sighed, eyes closing in pleasure, a pleasant buzzing sensation coursing through him, “I love you.”

 

JJ laid down on his back, dropping the washcloth on the floor before gently pulling Otabek to snuggle into his chest. Otabek did so happily, enjoying the lazy feeling of JJ’s hand running up and down his back.

 

“I love you too,” JJ murmured, kissing the top of Otabek’s head. They curled together on the bed, Otabek reaching down to pull up a big blanket over them both. JJ sighed happily as Otabek snuggled back against them, the two just spending time gently roaming each other’s chests and arms.

 

_I’ve never felt like this before. I am so in love with him, it’s ridiculous._

 

After a time, JJ’s eyelids began to droop, trying to fight sleep and failing. It was probably the cutest thing Otabek had ever seen.

 

“Beks,” JJ mumbled, eyes half closed, “Your apartment sucks. Move in with me.”

 

_Holy shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will pause here to remind you all that this is a canon-compliant, eventual Otayuri...so just, please prepare yourselves if you like JJBek.
> 
> Please leave me a comment and let you know what you think! <3


	4. i'll never be satisfied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri waved with a “tch,” and walked out of the bathroom, adrenaline pumping through his veins.
> 
> _What a disappointment, shit. I thought at least I’d get a chance to talk to him instead of him standing there like an idiot._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is Yuri-centric, focusing on the GPF and the infamous bathroom & banquet scene!
> 
> Note: This chapter does include recreational use of alcohol.

As he approached his fifteenth birthday, Yuri was more determined than ever to win gold.

 

He knew he was good, it wasn’t a state secret that he was well and above everyone in his division. Hell, he had been landing quads for six months while some others in his age bracket only had one or two triples to their name. It made practicing a chore, knowing he was essentially a shoe-in for the gold and there would be no real competition for him this year.

 

“Yuri, you are being arrogant!” Yakov snapped at him during practice, Yuri rolling his eyes.

 

Skating over to the edge of the rink, he stopped harshly, ice spraying from under his skates, making Yakov look even angrier.

 

“Look, we both know I can outskate anyone in the junior division,” Yuri growled, “I’ve heard you say it a hundred times! We’ve been at it for hours and I want to go home.” 

 

Yakov crossed his arms, face frowning. “Again, Yuri.”

 

Growling angrily, Yuri went back to the center of the ice, a storm of rage on his face. He started his routine again, thinking only of how sweet it would feel to stand on the ice with a gold medal around his neck in Sochi. 

 

_ I’ll show you, Yakov, _ he thought angrily as he skated through his routine, landing the jumps Yakov had choreographed, frustrated with the program’s difficulty level. His coach had said his routine was appropriate for his age, but Yuri only seethed with dissatisfaction each time he was forced to skate through his program. 

 

Practice dragged on and  _ on _ for  _ weeks _ until the GPF in Sochi was fast approaching. Yuri began focusing his attention on a different goal, a goal that he had been trying not to think too much about, without much success.

 

_ I want to see Katsuki Yuuri again. I want to watch him skate...maybe I could even talk to him this time. _

 

Yuri wasn’t sure how he felt about the other Yuuri, only knew that he admired him greatly and was happy to use him as an inspiration for his step sequences. His grandfather had gently teased him about having a crush, but he wasn’t sure exactly what his feelings were. However, Yuuri’s skating  _ had _ captivated him, and Yuri had spent time watching Yuuri’s former routines on YouTube with a critical eye.

 

_ He always looks so nervous, but he does well. I wonder why he always looks so surprised when he medals? _

 

Yuri researched him more, discovering to his surprise that Yuuri had never won a gold medal in an international competition. For someone of Yuuri’s skill and very apparent talent, this was shocking to Yuri, who was sure that Yuuri must have been as much of a hero to Japan as Victor currently was to Russia.

 

Sitting on the bench after practice, letting his sore feet rest, Yuri was watching through Katsuki’s practice videos from his rink in Detroit. He became absorbed in one particular video where Yuuri was skating very emotionally to a slow ballet piece, the passion in the step sequences and spins sucking him in. He was so focused on the video that he didn’t notice when someone approached behind him.

 

“Yuri!” Victor cheerfully exclaimed, “I saw you on the ice, you are doing so well! Are you excited for Sochi?”

 

Rolling his eyes, Yuri huffed a little, setting down his phone. “Yeah, but Yakov choreographed me a program for a beginner. It’s beneath my talent.”

 

Victor chuckled, sitting down on the bench next to Yuri. “Yuri, he’s letting you do a quad. Be grateful for that! I fought him for years to let me introduce quads into my programs until I understood that he was-”

 

“-just doing it to _ protect me from getting permanently injured, _ I know, I know,” Yuri interrupted, rolling his eyes again, “Just remember your promise to me, Victor.  When I win gold, you are choreographing a program for me.  _ Only _ for me.”

 

Victor smiled, draping an arm over Yuri’s shoulders. “Of course, Yurachka! I promised, didn’t I?”

 

_ Yeah, but you also promised you’d drive me out to Moscow to see my grandfather last week and you forgot that too, idiot. _

 

Victor ruffled his hair a bit, before asking him gently, “Sochi is next week. Are you ready, Yuri?”

 

“Yes.” 

 

And Yuri knew that he was.

 

The next week, the entire Russian team traveled together to the airport for the three hour flight from St. Petersburg to Sochi. Yuri was filled with nervous excitement, proud to finally be traveling with the seniors, even though he was in the junior division. He sat next to Mila on the flight while they chatted excitedly about what they expected from the event.

 

Yuri had paid little to no attention to his own competition, but he  _ was _ locked into the men’s senior line up. He was delighted that Yuuri had made it in, a first for him, and it thrilled him to know that he’d get to meet him again. At some point during the plane ride, Yakov and Mila switched seats so he could talk Yuri through his program. Yuri  _ mm’d  _ and  _ ahh’d _ through the conversation, not really paying attention. 

 

When the plane landed and they went to their hotel, Yuri was delighted to find that Yakov had booked him his own room. He dropped off his gear, crashing on his bed to get a bit of sleep before practice.

 

_ Three days until the competition. I can do this. _

 

Practice over the next few days went by in a blur. When the day of the short program arrived, Yuri had been a bit nervous, but he focused intently and ended up placing first. He had drawn the first slot and finally watched his competition afterwards with a disappointed stare.

 

_ Are they being serious? They’re routines are boring, I wish I was in the senior division already. This isn’t even a challenge! _

 

Unable to watch the seniors compete in the short program due to Yakov insisting he rest, Yuri focused solely on his goal of winning gold, of watching the seniors with the gold medal hanging on  _ his _ neck, feeling confident enough to talk to Katsuki Yuuri.

 

_ Based on his skating this season, I’d be surprised if he doesn’t pull silver. I don’t think he’ll beat Victor, but the potential is there. Even Yakov mentioned something to Victor about it back in St. Petersburg. _

 

When the day for the free skate came, Yuri was warming up in the rink in the morning, Yakov drilling him through some of the finer points in his program. Some of the other junior skaters had tried to talk to him throughout the week, but he wasn’t interested. 

 

The most persistent was a Japanese kid who was a couple of years older than him. He had a snaggletooth and weird red streak in his hair that Yuri didn’t care for. He never managed to get the kid’s name, but one conversation they had did stick out in his mind.

 

“Did you know Katsuki Yuuri in seniors? He’s my  _ hero,” _ the kid gushed to him, “He’s Japan’s top figure skater and he’s so  _ humble _ and  _ amazing _ , and I actually got to watch him _ draw his number,  _ can you believe that?”

 

“Uh-huh,” Yuri grunted, trying to feign chalantness, “That’s cool.”

 

After a while, the other skater’s coach called him over and Yuri promptly forgot about the interaction, focusing instead on stretching his legs, on lifted high above his head in a split. The competition was a joke to him, none of them even close to his ability, he was sure. 

 

That didn’t stop him from being focused on his goal.

 

The free skate portion of the event began, Yuri drawing the final slot. He hadn’t paid much attention to the other skaters’ routines this time around, and as he took the ice, he thought of only one thing.

 

_ I’m going to win gold today and next year, with Victor choreographing my program, I am going to win gold in my senior debut. _

 

His name was announced and he took his opening position.

 

_ Just you watch me. _

 

He skated furiously, adding in some technical elements that he knew Yakov would disapprove of, but he had only the desire to win, to smash his competition into the dust so everyone,  _ everyone _ in the rink that day would remember his name.

 

_ Katsuki Yuuri, are you watching? Watching my routine? I learned this step sequence from you. _

 

His mind was tumultuous, fierce thoughts pounding through his brain, but he executed each of his jumps perfectly. As Yuri went into his final sit spin, he knew he achieved his goal.

 

The thunderous applause from the audience told him as much, and he waved, before skating off to meet Yakov. He was barely listening to his coach’s praise as they sat, his gold-medal-winning score announced to thunderous applause and especially loud cheers from his fans.

 

The medal ceremony was a blur as well, the Russian anthem blaring through the rink, Yuri feeling detached from it all. He had no idea who the silver and bronze medalists were, had no connection to them. His thoughts were only of the next goal, his senior debut. When the anthem was over and photos and press interviews were finished, the silver medalist looked to him and offered congratulations.

 

“Uh, thanks,” Yuri said, unsure of what to say back. The kid just waved and Yuri was left standing by himself, the gold medal suddenly feeling a lot heavier than before.

 

It didn’t feel like much of a victory, if he was being honest with himself.

 

_ That was too easy. Where’s the challenge? I can’t wait until I’m in seniors. _

 

“Yuri!” Mila’s voice called out and he turned, screeching a bit as she hugged him tightly, spinning him around.

 

“Ugh, hag,  _ put me down,” _ he spat, face reddening, “You’re squeezing the life out of me.”

 

“I am  _ so proud of you,” _ she gushed, ignoring him, “Gold medalist! As if we expected anything less from you.”

 

“That’s right!” Victor said cheerfully, having come up upon them. He was wearing his free skate costume, something he had designed himself, and even Yuri had to admit it was a good fit for him. 

 

Mila finally put him down, a fierce blush still on his face. They chatted for a few moments before Yakov came and pulled Victor away, chastising him for not focusing on his routine.

 

“The men’s free skate starts soon,” Mila said, once they were alone, “Want to sit and watch with me?”

 

“Da.”

 

They found good seats, upper deck so they could have a good view of the rink. Yuri wasn’t talking, focusing completely on the ice.  _ This _ is what he was here to see. This was his future competition, the  _ real _ threats. People he could learn from, people he could really challenge himself against.

 

The rink gradually began to fill, the audience taking their seats. Eventually, the six skaters took the ice for warm up and Yuri rolled his eyes as Victor and his Swiss friend laughed loudly before going on the ice. His attention shifted to a familiar skater peeling off his Japanese team jacket at the edge of the rink.

 

_ What’s….what’s wrong with Katsuki? He looks completely terrible. Are his eyes bloodshot? Damn, was he crying? Jeez… _

 

Tension tightened in his stomach as the warm up completed, excited cheers flooding through the rink. Yuuri was up first, looking nervous in his performance outfit. His long-haired coach, the Italian one Yuri remembered from before, was speaking intently to Yuuri, a look of concern on his face. Yuuri was nodding, eyes still rimmed red.

 

When the clock began, Yuuri skated to the center of the ice, taking the position for what Yuri was sure would be an impressive free skate. The music began, and Yuuri took off.

 

After a few moments, Yuri began to realize with a sense of growing discomfort that this performance was  _ not _ going to go well. Yuuri was shaky on simple spins, something Yuri had watched him nail a thousand times on YouTube.

 

Yuuri went for his first jump, and…

 

_ Oh man, that was a rough fall. Get back up, stupid! Come on! _

 

Yuri gripped his legs tightly, biting his bottom lip as he watched Yuuri bomb each of his jumps. He didn’t land a single one, but Yuri had to admire that he kept skating after each fall. Despite the disaster of his triples and quads, he still had an outstanding step sequence and spins to rival the ones Victor had been practicing. However, it was hard to watch as Yuuri kept falling.

 

_ He messes up his jumps, but his step sequence...wow.  _

 

When the painful performance was finally over and Katsuki in his final position, Yuri was sitting forward in his seat, a glazed look on his face. Yuuri waved a trembling hand to the audience before skating off to his coach, who placed a consoling hand on his shoulder.

 

_ What...what the hell is this? He’s not the same person I saw last year. Is he  _ **_crying?_ **

 

Yuri huffed, crossing his arms. Mila had gone to get snacks for them, so his attention was solely on Yuuri. After a few awkward minutes as Yuuri’s drastically low score was announced, his coach helped him walk in the back towards the locker rooms. As Christophe Giacometti took the ice, Yuri took the opportunity to weave his way down to the restrooms in the locker room area.

 

_ He’s probably really upset. Maybe I should try and say something nice to him. _

 

Yuri walked down the stairs, weaving his way to the private area. He watched Yuuri down a hall say something briefly to his coach before heading into the men’s room. Yuri waited a moment or two, trying to figure out what he would say.

 

_ I’ll just go in to wash my hands or something....and then I can tell him his step sequence inspired me? Is that okay to say? I wonder if that would make him feel better. What kind of guy is he? _

 

Yuri opened the bathroom door, shocked to hear muffled sobbing and some whimpering words in Japanese. 

 

_ Ugh, he’s crying again? How pathetic. How would Yakov handle this? I’ve seen him deal with Georgi when he’s having an emotional meltdown, fuck...should I do something? I’ll...try. Maybe if I...yeah, that would shock him out of it. _

 

Yuri made up his mind and wound up his foot, kicking the door,  _ hard. _

 

He didn’t know the words that came out of his mouth, just a stream of angry nonsense, the kind of thing Yakov would do during practice. After his shouting, Yuuri had stopped crying and looked completely stunned.

 

_ Nailed it. _

 

Yuri waved with a “tch,” and walked out of the bathroom, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

 

_ What a disappointment, shit. I thought at least I’d get a chance to talk to him instead of him standing there like an idiot. _

 

Hours later at the banquet, Yuri was still wearing his angry scowl, frustrated at the tux Yakov had forced him into wearing. It was plain, much too plain for his standards. Victor was pawing about the room, fawning to sponsors and other skaters, while Mila was chatting with another girl from her division. He was grumbling, no one interesting to talk to.

 

Yuuri was there, Yuri determinedly attempting to ignore him. Despite his attempts, he still found himself breaking resolve and glancing over every few minutes. After a while, he noticed that Yuuri was standing alone, downing glass after glass of champagne, a nice line of empties beginning to fill the table.

 

_ Shit...how many glasses has he had? _

 

The next few minutes were some of the surrealist moments of Yuri’s entire life. He watched as Katsuki Yuuri, this shy, awkward guy who had just completely  _ bombed _ his performance, loosen his tie, toss his jacket to the side and begin  _ gyrating _ on the dance floor.

 

He was transfixed with secondhand embarrassment, but also with a strange urge to grin. At one point, Yuuri turned and locked eyes with him.

 

_ ”What...what is this, oh my god? He’s a mess! He’s walking over here, shit, shit, shit, he’s going to tell everyone I yelled at him, fuck. _

 

“Yuri! The Russian Punk! I challenge you to a  _ duel,” _ Yuuri laughed, glasses askew, shoving his finger right in Yuri’s face. Yuri’s face burned but as the music pumped through the room, he found himself shoved forward, and he turned around to see Mila grinning at him.

 

_ Fine, Kat- _ **_sucky_ ** _. I’ll show you. Fuck it. _

 

The music changed to something more intense, faster, and Yuri threw himself into the dance off. A crowd had formed around him now, and after a while, Yuri realized the burn he was feeling in his cheeks wasn’t just from embarrassment, he was actually having  _ fun. _

 

“Go Yuri!” Mila laughed, snapping a bunch of pictures with her cellphone. He saw Victor begin to smile and loosen his own tie before joining them on the dance floor. Yuri took the opportunity to step off, taking out his own cellphone and snapping picture after picture of them.

 

_ This will be amazing blackmail material on Victor. Holy hell...is Victor actually...happy? I don’t think I’ve seen him look this happy in... _

 

Yuri looked between both Victor and Yuuri, and he felt his heart sink as he put two and two together.

 

_ Ew, gross. Of course he’d be all over Victor. Of...of course he would. I guess it doesn’t matter, I mean, I don’t have anything to prove to him anymore, he obviously all over Victor, just like everyone else. Not like I care. _

 

Yuuri had lost his shirt now and Christophe had joined, clothes flying left and right. Victor was howling with laughter, wolf-whistling while many of the older skaters were taking photos. He saw several coaches looking appalled, some amused. Yuri was  _ angry. _

 

Yuuri was spinning on a pole in the center of the room and Yuri felt disgusted with himself.

 

_ What a loser. Stupid, stupid loser. I can’t believe I wasted so much of my time on this guy. _

 

After an absolutely disgusting display of skin, Christophe and Yuuri finished their pole dancing routine, to everyone’s relief. A skater Yuri didn’t know tied a tie to Yuuri’s head and shoved a shirt back on him. He watched in disgust as Yuuri stumbled over to Victor, basically falling into his arms.

 

Watching Katsuki babble about his onsen was gross enough, but it was four words that shattered what little restraint Yuri had left.

 

“Be my coach, Victor!”

 

Yuri watched as Victor’s face flushed, looking absolutely smitten, and his stomach rolled. He couldn’t really make sense of his feelings; a mixture of disappointment, disgust, jealousy, and anger burned through his blood, making him frustrated and anxious. Without so much as goodbye, he turned tail and left the banquet hall, thankful it was in the same building as their hotel. 

 

He stormed over to the elevators, punching in the number for his floor and getting on, happy to have some alone time. When it finally  _ dinged _ for his stop, Yuri got out and headed to his room. Once inside, he pulled off his tie and flopped down onto his bed. After a few moments of gathering his thoughts, he managed to find the energy to change into his pajamas.

 

_ It’s weird to see Yuuri as….a real person. I knew he got nervous, so I guess I’m not too surprised he messed up his jumps, but what the hell was that at the banquet? Challenging me to a dance off and then stripping and fawning over Victor? Who the hell  _ **_is_ ** _ this guy? _

 

_ Whatever. It’s not like I care. _

 

It couldn’t have been more than about twenty minutes before he heard a soft knock on his door.

 

“Yuri?” Mila’s voice came through, “It’s me. Can I come in?”

 

He stood, heading over and swinging the door open. Mila walked right in, throwing herself down on Yuri’s bed. She had clearly just come up from the banquet, still in her dress and heels. He sat down next to her, waiting for her explanation.

 

“Hey, what’s up? You left so fast, I was worried,” she smiled, nudging Yuri’s shoulder, “You okay?”

 

_ No. But I don’t know why. _

 

As Yuri sat with his head in his arms, he was completely embarrassed to find that he had begun to cry.

 

_ Shit, I am not crying over that asshole! It, it was dumb, I spent too much time trying to idolize him. And Victor, too. I just thought...it would have been nice to have someone to look up to. _

 

“Yurachka!” Mila gasped, leaning over and wrapping him in a hug, “Sweetie, what’s wrong?”

 

Yuri suddenly found a wave of emotion inside of him that he could not control. He leaned in, pressing his face against her shoulder as he sobbed unabashedly. 

 

_ Screw you, Katuski. And you too, Victor. I’m going to wipe the floor with both of you next year. Just you wait.  _

  
_ Just you watch me. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some specifics about this chapter: I didn't go into detail about Yuri's routines (or anyone's, really) on purpose because there will be a _lot_ of skating competitions in this fic, and the details of some will be more important than this, and I didn't want to bog down the story with technicalities. Although, I do have headcanons for everyone's free skate programs! 
> 
> The Minami moment was inspired by [this tweet](https://twitter.com/denkimouse/status/858313065447567362) from the Yuri!!! On Stage event.
> 
> Credit to [Tash](http://wing--it.tumblr.com) for the "nailed it" idea.
> 
> Next chapter we are back with Otabek in Canada! Thank you all for your amazing comments and kudos so far! Please leave me a comment with what you think so far of this fic. Comments mean a lot to me, they really help motivate my writing!


	5. and we break and we make our mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He felt he was being a bit silly, worried over not seeing JJ all the time. But over the past year, JJ had never once shied away from his company. After spending so much time together, the strange separation and avoidance were setting off alarm bells in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind comments and kudos! We're back with Otabek and JJ here!

In the months that followed after Otabek had moved in with JJ, he was often struck by how _happy_ he was. He found himself laughing more openly, enjoying the domesticity of living with his boyfriend. It also didn’t hurt that he was out of his shoebox apartment, living in a much nicer, larger space. Since JJ’s parents were helping with rent, their apartment was well-furnished and homy. Otabek had a room of his own, but they spent most of their nights in JJ’s bed.

 

Despite the rough days of training they were both enduring, Otabek enjoyed the feeling of heading home after long days at the rink, relaxing together. One of his favorite times were the weekends, when Otabek would wake up first and make them both breakfast. Lazy Sundays became his favorite days, JJ snoring like a freight train until eleven while Otabek would get up early, cooking pancakes and bacon for brunch. When JJ would finally stumble from his room, yawning and rubbing his eyes, Otabek would smile fondly at his bedhead, sighing happily as JJ would hug him from behind, kissing the top of his head.

 

It was _nice._ It was _domestic._ Sometimes, JJ’s parents would come around and Otabek would call his family on Skype, all of them laughing and talking together. He began to fall into a routine, one that was comfortable and sweet, filled with JJ’s laughter and his bright eyes.

 

It had been almost a year that they had been together, an unexpected whirlwind of a year that had made Otabek more open to new experiences and more comfortable with himself. JJ was still one of the few close friends he had in Canada, but by virtue of their relationship he now had JJ’s parents and friends by extension. He even managed to have JJ meet his friends in Kazakhstan over Skype and FaceTime, happy to have the approval of his friends in his relationship.

 

Things went on much in the same fashion for a time until one fateful Monday.

 

They were at the rink, practicing hard, intense focused paid to each detail of their programs. Otabek had pulled to the side for a break while JJ was still skating through his routine. Pulling out his phone to check his various feeds, a loud _thud_ followed by a curse caused him to look up. JJ was laying on the ice, having apparently fallen out of a jump. Otabek bit his lip worriedly, but JJ got up right away, brushing ice off his pants, quite red in the face.

 

_That’s so strange. He never falls. I wonder what happened?_

 

“Oh, are you alright?” a voice Otabek didn’t recognize asked JJ. He looked over to see a dark-haired, blue-eyed girl standing next to one of the Canadian female figure skaters. JJ was staring at her with an expression Otabek had never seen on his boyfriend before. Something that he couldn’t quite place.

 

_How weird. Does he know her or something?_

 

The girl chatted with JJ for a few moments but soon after left with her friend. The rest of the night went by normally, and Otabek forgot about the interaction completely.

 

As the week went by, Otabek began to feel like something was off. He barely saw JJ, and when he did, it was either him asleep on the couch or working at practice. When he attempted to text and ask what was going on, JJ had only answered with a few short words. Otabek wasn’t worried at first, but by Friday, he began to fear that something was really wrong with his boyfriend. He felt he was being a bit silly, worried over not seeing JJ all the time. But over the past year, JJ had never once shied away from his company. After spending so much time together, the strange separation and avoidance were setting off alarm bells in his head.

 

By Saturday night, Otabek couldn’t stand it any longer. He pulled out his phone and texted JJ six words.

 

**_Come home. We need to talk._ **

 

Shortly after sending it, Otabek sat on the couch, knee bouncing up and down, until his phone finally vibrated, JJ texting **_okay. be there soon._ **

 

After about fifteen minutes of tense waiting, the apartment door opened slowly. Otabek stood to go greet JJ, but the sight that he saw stopped him in his tracks. JJ was crying, shoulders shaking as he walked in, closing the door behind him.

 

_Why is crying? Is he hurt? What’s going on?_

 

“JJ...what…” Otabek stammered, utterly bewildered. In the two years he’d known JJ and the nearly a year that they had been together, he had _never_ seen his boyfriend cry like this before. JJ wiped his hand over his eyes, taking a deep breath before looking up at him.

 

“Kiss me,” he whispered, taking a step towards him, “Beks, _please.”_

 

Completely confused and full of concern, Otabek stayed still, unsure of what was happening. JJ took another step forward, half falling into Otabek’s arms, before pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips and dropping his head on his shoulder, sniffling. Still utterly lost as to what was going on, Otabek rubbed a soothing hand on JJ’s back, muttering softly in his ear as JJ continued to cry. After a while, JJ eventually pulled back.

 

“JJ, what’s going _on?”_ Otabek asked again. JJ closed his eyes and took in a deep breath to steady himself before looking Otabek straight in the eye.

 

“I’ve...been hanging out with Bella,” he started slowly, suddenly unable to hold his gaze on Otabek.

 

“Bella?” Otabek asked, still completely confused, “You mean that girl you said you met at the rink last week?”

 

JJ nodded, rubbing his eyes. Otabek walked over to a table, bringing JJ a box of tissues. He took them gratefully, blowing his nose and throwing the used tissues in the trash. Otabek stood a little awkwardly, unsure of what he should do.

 

_What’s the deal with this girl? Did she upset him or something?_

 

“Hey, let’s sit on the couch, okay?” Otabek asked, JJ nodding slowly. They moved over to the small couch, sitting down next to each other. JJ rest his elbows on his knees, face in hand. Otabek ran a soothing hand over his still trembling back, unsure of what to say.

 

“You’re going to hate me. I...god, I don’t know what to _do,_ okay? She...she’s taken over my head!” JJ wailed, face still buried in his hands.

 

_...what?_

 

Otabek’s heart was pounding as a nervous sweat began to break out over him.

 

“JJ...what…” he stammered, while JJ raised his eyes to meet his own. He still had tears in his eyes, looking up at him with a pleading look.

 

“Otabek,” he said, slowly causing Otabek to _freeze_. Since when did JJ use his full name?

 

“I’m so _sorry._ I just...I saw her and I knew...she’s it for me,” JJ stammered, “I just...I can’t hurt you, I love you so damn much, but it isn’t fair to you, not like this. I can’t....”

 

Otabek’s mind froze. The words JJ was saying made no sense. Sure, JJ had been distant this week, but he had never expected something like _this._

 

“JJ...are you...breaking up with me?” he said quietly, pulling his hand away. JJ swallowed hard at the words, before nodding slowly.

 

“Bek, I love you, I do...but I t-think she’s my _soulmate.”_

 

There were no words to describe Otabek’s feelings. Hot flashes of betrayal, anger, guilt, and complete shock pulsed through him, but nothing stayed for long. JJ was breathing nervously next to him, shoulder still shaking.

 

_You've only known her a week, and you're breaking up with me?_

 

Otabek stood silently, the closeness of JJ intimidating him. He wanted nothing more to reach out and hold him, but the shock of his words poured over Otabek like poison. In all of his confusion, he was unaware that he had begun to cry himself.

 

“Fuck, I’m so _sorry,”_ JJ said, standing up and reaching for him. Otabek pushed his hand away, feeling hot tears rolling down his face. He was so twisted up inside that he was unsure of what was happening. An awkward silence built between them.

 

_I...this doesn’t feel real. He can’t do this, it...it’s so out of the blue!_

 

“I...I’m so fucking sorry,” JJ mumbled, “Look, man, I’m...I’ll get out of your hair for a few days, okay? I’ll be at my parents…”

 

Otabek ignored him, staring out the window, tears still falling quietly. Before he could even process what he had said, JJ was gone. The silence in the apartment was suffocating. Otabek had often viewed their apartment as a kind of oasis, but now it felt more like a prison. Feeling overwhelmed, he pulled out his phone and dialed the first number he could think of.

 

 _“Otabek, hello!”_ his mother called cheerfully, _“How are you?”_

 

“Mom,” he sobbed, gasping into the phone, “Mama.”

 

 _“Oh, baby, what’s wrong?”_ she cooed. Otabek sobbed the whole story to her, the shock and devastation of JJ’s abrupt leaving. She let him cry, soothing him and talking him through it. When he had finally stopped crying, his mother took the opportunity to speak a bit more.

 

 _“Honey, I know you don’t want to hear this, and I know it feels like the end of the world, but you’re strong. You’re going to be okay,”_ she said.

 

“Mom, he loves someone else,” Otabek sniffed, “And everything was going so well...I thought…”

 

_I thought it was serious. I thought…_

 

 _“I know, Otabek, I know,”_ she reassured him soothingly, _“Listen, I know you’re busy training, but you know that you can come home anytime. Your father and I miss you, we’d be happy to have you home.”_

 

“Thanks, mom,” Otabek mumbled, “I’ll...I’ll think about. I need to figure things out, first.”

 

They said their goodbyes, Otabek feeling a round of tears building up inside of him again. He shot a quick text to one of his best friends in Almaty, a short explanation of what had happened. He was suddenly terribly homesick, wanting nothing more than to be in Almaty and away from Toronto. He texted his coach, telling her that he was ill and would be missing practice the next few days. Knowing that he’d need to figure out what he was going to do, he pushed the thoughts aside and decided to sleep, hoping it would calm his thoughts.

 

Still in a bit of shock and not thinking clearly, Otabek shuffled into JJ’s room automatically, where he usually slept. When he opened the door, the sight of their shared items spread out over the room brought another lump back to his throat. Swallowing hard, he shuffled forward and dropped onto the unmade bed, pulling the large comforter over himself.

 

_Maybe when I wake up, this will all be a bad dream._

 

The emotional crash that followed over the next several days was possibly the worst that Otabek had ever felt. JJ had texted him a few times, asking if he was okay and apologizing, all of which went unanswered. Otabek’s coach was furious with him for missing consecutive practices, but he just couldn’t bring himself to go to the rink. He couldn’t bear the thought of running into JJ, or even worse, running into _Isabella_ and JJ.

 

He spent most of his time in a sad haze, eating whatever leftovers were stuffed in the fridge and watching TSN. The hockey and other sports distracted him a bit from his pain, but sometimes he’d catch a glimpse of JJ’s scarf on the floor, or a picture of the two of them on the fridge, and he would breakdown. Otabek was shocked at how much he was crying, he never imagined himself to be the emotional type.

 

A week after JJ had left, Otabek’s phone was buzzing more and more. He ignored it, not wanting to talk to his friends in Almaty, his coach, or worse, JJ himself. Instead, he left his phone on the coffee table and walked into JJ’s bedroom. A pang of sorrow hit him when he entered, as it had for the past week. He stripped down, pulling on a pair of his pajama pants off the floor. One of JJ’s hoodies, a Team Canada one, was laying on a chair in the corner. He picked it up carefully, inhaling the scent, before tugging it on.

 

Otabek’s eyes watered as he laid down on top of the covers, bringing his arms up so he could bury his face in his sleeves. If he thought hard enough, he could almost imagine that JJ was here, holding him. He had never been so lonely. Crying a little as he continued to lay in the bed, he hoped that soon he could crash. After a while, his cries stopped and his eyes closed, drifting off into an uneasy sleep.

 

His eyes only opened again when he heard the sound of the apartment door opening. Knowing it could only be one person, Otabek began to panic. In his fear, he decided the only thing to do was to continue feigning sleep until he could figure out a plan.

 

“JJ, are you sure he’s not here? I really don’t want to upset him,” a quiet voice asked.

 

_Who is that? It’s not his mom…_

 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” JJ responded, sounding very tired, “He hasn’t been answering my texts but his coach wasn’t at the rink today, so I figured they must be off training somewhere else. I’ve been trying to get in touch with him for days. Bella...I don’t think he’s ever going to speak to me again.”

 

“You don’t know that,” Bella responded, “It’s an awful situation, and I’m not proud of myself that I caused it, but you and I both know that being honest with him immediately was the right thing to do. He’ll come around to talking to you eventually.”

 

_I can’t believe he brought her here. Oh my god, and I’m in his room wearing his sweatshirt, oh my god…_

 

“I know that, but I just...god, you should have seen the look on his face, it was like I ripped out his heart or something. We...we were in a good place, too, it’s not like we were having problems. I’m sorry, you probably don’t want to hear this.”

 

“No, JJ, I’m glad you’re being honest with me. It’s a unique situation.”

 

_“Unique” isn’t exactly how I’d put it._

 

“I just need to grab some clothes and things, I’ll be right back,” JJ said, voice coming closer. Otabek relaxed as much as he could, evening out his breathing. He was painfully aware that his eyes were puffy from crying and he probably looked a complete disaster. He heard the door push open with a slight creak.

 

 _“Fuck,”_ JJ whispered.

 

Otabek didn’t move, just kept up his steady breathing as he heard JJ move around the room. He felt the bed dip a little as JJ sat on the side and a gentle hand brush the hair off his forehead. Unable to stop his involuntary nose twitch, he faked the nuzzling JJ used to tease him about, pressing his face up towards JJ’s hand.

 

“Goddamnit,” JJ said, voice cracking.

 

“JJ?” Bella called from the doorway gasping a little, “Oh, no. He looks like he’s been…”

 

“Crying, I know,” JJ answered, “Shit, this is all my _fault.”_

 

From his position on the bed, Otabek could feel JJ’s breath starting to hitch and he knew he was close to tears. His own heart was pounding, thrilled to have JJ touching him again, despite the awkwardness of the situation. He knew both JJ and Bella thought him asleep, and he was going to keep up the charade as long as meant that JJ would touch him a little longer.

 

“Do you think it would help if I talked to him? Clear the air a little?” Bella whispered nervously, “I know he probably hates me, but…”

 

“Otabek doesn’t _hate_ anyone,” JJ whispered back, “But I don’t think it’s a good idea. He’s...obviously still upset. Shit.”

 

_Please, please go. Sleep is getting impossible to fake._

 

“JJ, do you want a minute? I can wait down in the car,” Bella said gently. Otabek supposed JJ must have nodded because he heard her footsteps fade and the sound of the apartment closing. JJ exhaled, running a gentle hand through his hair.

 

“Come on, Beks, wake up,” he murmured. Otabek knew it was cruel, but knowing this may be the last time JJ woke him up this way, he curled into his palm like he used to, feigning waking up as he pressed a gentle kiss to JJ’s hand.

 

“Mmm w’timesit?” he mumbled, yawning a little as he sat up. Blinking blearily, for real this time, as his eyes had been closed for so long, he focused on JJ’s face. Despite the facade he had been trying to keep up, seeing JJ so close still felt like a punch in the gut. His face dropped, JJ looking worried at the change in expression.

 

“Hey, um, sorry to wake you, I just...I was worried,” JJ stammered, “I mean, you haven’t been at practice and um, you’re not answering my texts and I’m really sorry, I didn’t know you were here and...is...are you wearing my sweatshirt?”

 

Otabek blushed looking down at the bed, pride bruised and all but forgotten. “I missed you,” he whispered.

 

“I’m sorry,” JJ apologized quietly, “I really am. I wanted you to know that...well, fuck, I don’t know how to say this, Otabek.”

 

_Just say it. You can’t hurt me more than you already have._

 

JJ took a deep breath, running a nervous hand through his hair. “Well, I explained the situation to my parents, they think I’m crazy, and they’re furious I hurt you, but...they understand. They said that they think I should move back in with them and you should stay here, at least until the lease is up. They said under no circumstances are you to pay them rent.”

 

Something like anger burned through Otabek before it disappeared in a flash, exhaustion in its wake.

 

“I don’t want to stay here, JJ,” Otabek confessed softly, “I can’t.”

 

JJ looked pained, but Otabek didn’t react. He wanted JJ to leave and simultaneously, he wanted him to stay and hold him. JJ had a strange look on his face, a kind of wistful longing.

 

“What are you thinking?” Otabek asked before he could stop himself.

 

JJ looked up at him with his bright eyes, full of emotion. “I was thinking of what we did together the last night we both slept in this bed.”

 

Otabek’s heart stopped for a moment, memories flooding him, face burning. How _dare_ JJ bring up their intimate life while his new lover was downstairs, waiting for him?

 

“Get out,” Otabek spat, eyes narrowing as he stood furiously, “Get out of here.”

 

JJ swallowed nervously. “Beks, I’ve got to get my stuff…”

 

“Fine,” Otabek growled, grabbing his phone, wallet, and keys, sliding on a pair of shoes, “Then I’m leaving.”

 

“Otabek, don’t be stupid, you’ll get frostbite if you go out dressed like that,” JJ admonished. Otabek glanced out the window, startled to see snow whirling against the glass. Dropping his keys with a frustrated growl, he kicked off his shoes and stormed into his own bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

 

He heard JJ gathering up his things before the apartment door closed again, a heavy _thud_ followed by an empty kind of silence. Otabek rubbed at his forehead, antsy from the argument and the emotional exhaustion of the day. Standing, he walked over to his laptop, pulling him his emails. He deleted the junk before his phone buzzed, alerting him to another text.

 

His friends in Almaty were furious on his behalf and had been sending him lots of messages of support. A dear friend from his junior days had offered to arrange Skype session with Otabek and one of the coaches in his former home rink. All of the talk made him more homesick than ever.

 

_It’d be nice to go back home. A break from all of this._

 

Looking around the apartment, Otabek made an impulsive decision. Typing quickly, he booked a flight that was to leave in several hours. Grabbing a duffel bag from his closet, he loaded it up with his essentials, grabbing his skating gear. With barely a thought given to the consequences, he called for a cab and went directly to the airport, not looking back.

 

_I just need to go home. I need to get out of here._

 

It occurred to Otabek, many hours later on his flight, that he had forgotten to say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the long-dreaded break up. :( Next chapter, we're back with Yuri. Please leave me a comment and let me know what you think so far!


	6. like a dream that you can't quite place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once they had all sat down around the table, Yuri was disgusted with how well Victor was fitting in with them, and how Yuuri’s smile brightened and his cheeks tinged red each time Victor spoke to him.
> 
>  
> 
> _This is going to be a long week._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Sorry for the wait on this, but I’m back and ready to rock n’ roll! This chapter will be a bit shorter than the others, as it takes place within the first several eps of YOI and is entirely from Yuri’s POV. Since we already know essentially what happens, I’m focusing on his internal feelings and not so much rehashing all the details from the episodes. I hope you enjoy! <3

 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN VICTOR’S  _ GONE?” _ Yuri shouted angrily across the rink, causing other skaters to turn and look over at him in confusion. Mila was trying to console him, but Yuri was already shaking with rage. 

 

It had been several months since the Grand Prix Finals and Yuri was looking forward to beginning his senior debut routines. Yakov was  _ finally _ allowing him to do more advanced quads now that his fifteenth birthday had passed. Each day, Yuri’s stomach would bubble with excitement, waiting in eager anticipation for Victor to choreograph his routine.

 

Until Yuuri Katsuki had come along, that is. Everyone and their mother watched Victor pine over the viral video of Katsuki trying to skate Victor’s routine. Yuri’s damaged pride wouldn’t allow himself to admit that it was good, only that it was disgusting that Yuuri showed so much obvious affection for Victor.

 

_ It’s disgusting the way he threw himself at Victor during the banquet. Stupid. _

 

“He cannot have  _ possibly _ left to go coach that stupid Japanese  _ pig,” _ he spat at Mila angrily, hurt brimming in his eyes.

 

Mila held her hands out in front of her, trying to calm him down. “Yuri, I don’t know what to tell you. He said goodbye to Yakov and left last night. He’s on the plane now.”

 

Yuri crossed his arms as he practically vibrated with rage. How could VIctor  _ do _ this; leave him in the lurch without a program? How was this  _ fair? _

 

_ Mila must be wrong. Maybe he just flew out there to...tell Katsuki off for copying his routine or something. Yeah. _

 

“I don’t believe you,” he spat at her, turning on his heel and storming towards the locker rooms. Finding his bag, he slammed his things inside, zipping it tightly and heading out the door without a backwards glance.

 

The walk home from the rink was filled with angry under-his-breath mutterings as Yuri attempted some semblance of control. He scrolled furiously through his phone, looking for evidence that suggested Victor was actually gone. He even texted Victor, angrily asking where he was, with no response. 

 

When he finally made it back to the small apartment he shared with his grandfather, Yuri launched into the whole story, complaining furiously about the situation. His grandfather nodded and listened patiently to his ramblings, nodding sagely as he made dinner for the pair of them.

 

“Dedushka, it’s not  _ fair,” _ Yuri whined, dropping his head down on the kitchen table, “Victor promised that he’d do it! How can he just  _ leave _ like that?”

 

His grandfather sat down at the table, setting a plate of piroshkis in front of Yuri.

 

“I don’t know, Yurachka. But Victor has been at the top for a very long time. Perhaps he’s tired of winning and wants a change,” his grandfather said softly, patting Yuri’s hand.

 

Groaning, Yuri grabbed one of the piroshki, stuffing it fiercely in his mouth. 

 

_ Well, too bad. I’m going to get him back here if it means flying out to Japan myself. _

 

A couple of nights later after Yuri had seen Victor’s post on Instagram, Yuri angrily booked a flight. He was so upset that Victor was ignoring him that he forgot to mention to anyone that he was leaving. 

 

The flight was long, ridiculously so, and Yuri had only packed essentials. All he knew was that Victor was in someplace called Hasetsu, wherever that was. He gathered from the internet that it was a small town, so finding him and Yuuri wouldn’t be too hard to manage. 

 

When he got off of the plane, Yuri walked quickly with his carry-on, hailing a taxi and managing to communicate with the driver that he needed to get to Hasetsu. The ride was peaceful, Yuri vaguely enjoying the scenery. Mostly, he was thinking about Victor’s broken promise to him.

 

He was also trying desperately  _ not _ to think about Yuuri.

 

Biting his lip, Yuri pressed his face against the window of the taxi, the vibrations from the car distracting him a little from his thoughts. After a while, the cab pulled over and Yuri paid the fair, grabbing his belongings and stepping out onto the sidewalk.

 

The first thing he noticed of Hasetsu was the smell. Seawater and fresh, clean breeze wafted through his nostrils, making him feel a little more relaxed in spite of himself. Unsure of exactly where he was and with no thought to where he was going to go, he pointed himself in a direction and began to walk. 

 

When he finally made his way into a small outdoor shopping area, he quickly got distracted by the various food and merchandise, briefly forgetting his reason for being there in the first place. Without thinking, he snapped a selfie wearing his brand-new tiger shirt that he purchased, uploading it to Instagram.

 

His proceeding fight with Yakov over the phone was not one of his finer moments.

 

When he finally managed to figure out where Victor was after yelling all over the city, Yuri steeled himself as he walked closer to the ice rink. He could see a small crowd outside, reporters and fans alike, bustling to try and get in. Ignoring them and the three small kids that appeared to be holding back the crowd, Yuri stormed towards the doors.

 

_ Of fucking course. Of course they’d be swarming here where Victor is. Ugh, is that Katsuki? Screw him. Screw him and his fucking perfect life with fucking Victor. Asshole. _

 

Winding up his leg, Yuri kicked out at him, Yuuri sprawling and landing on his back. Much like he had in the months prior at the GPF, Yuri lost track of what he was saying as he spat down harsh words at Yuuri, furious that the other seemed to be bewildered by his presence. 

 

After finally calming down enough to listen to reason, Yuri followed Yuuri sulkily into the rink, eyes widening as he saw Victor on the ice. 

 

_ Wow, he’s really here. Skating...wait, is that the program he was working on? _

 

Victor noticed Yuri, smile widening as he skated over towards the edge of the rink.

 

“Yuri! What brings you here?” Victor beamed, ruffling Yuri’s hair as he stepped off the ice. Yuuri was fairly quiet during the exchange as Yuri berated Victor.

 

“Oh, that’s not a happy face!” Victor teased as Yuri growled, “Let me guess, I forgot to do something I said I would do? You know I forget things, I’m useless sometimes.”

 

Yuri rolled his eyes as he thought of all the times Victor had forgotten promises. “I’m painfully aware.”

 

As Yuri snapped at Victor,  _ demanding  _ he come back to Japan, he was aware of Yuuri’s nervous expression. Guilt tightened in his stomach a little; he didn’t want Yuuri to be upset, he just wanted Victor to keep his word.

 

_ Victor is supposed to be in Russia, with me. We’re supposed to be training together, not having this stupid ice-off or whatever the fuck I’m proposing. I just want Victor to come back...and stay away from Yuuri. _

 

Somehow, Yuri got roped into coming over to stay at the onsen after their heated conversation. The walk back to the Katsuki’s was a little awkward, Victor filling the silence between the two Yuri’s with teasing and laughter. It was frustrating for Yuri, who simultaneously wanted to ignore and pepper Yuuri with questions.

 

Trying to ignore the twisting excitement he felt about being around not one, but two of his idols, Yuri settled on an angry sort of scowl, not even bothering to smile as Victor proudly introduced him to Yuuri’s family. He felt a little guilty as Yuuri’s mom fawned over him, pulling him down to the table and giving him a bowl of katsudon immediately. 

 

Once they had all sat down around the table, Yuri was disgusted with how well Victor was fitting in with them, and how Yuuri’s smile brightened and his cheeks tinged red each time Victor spoke to him.

 

_ This is going to be a long week. _

 

The days of training for finding Yuri’s  _ Agape _ was killing him. Not only was Victor a merciless coach, he was also into strange ways of “finding yourself” that Yakov would never have employed. 

 

It came to a head one evening when Yuri found himself standing under a waterfall next to Yuuri, thinking furiously about what a waste of time it all was, when the sudden image of his grandfather popped into his head.

 

_ Dedushka. Grandpa. He’s...that’s my Agape. Unconditional love.  _

 

He felt himself sway under the water, and a flash of heat as Yuuri grabbed onto his arm. It was unexpected, but not unpleasant. 

 

Further surprises awaited him that week.

 

“Yuri, will you teach me how to land a quad salchow?” Yuuri bowed, practically  _ begging  _ him.

 

Yuri didn’t know how to feel, it was the exact scenario he had imagined so many times before, and now it was coming to life. Yuuri, his  _ idol _ , had asked for his help. He wanted Yuri to teach him, to work with him. He thought Yuri talented, better at him than something. Yuri was flattered.

 

Flattered and  _ frustrated. _ Knowing Yuuri was doing this mainly to impress Victor, to show him that  _ he  _ could win, Yuri was torn with his feelings. He still wasn’t sure exactly what he felt for Yuri, a kind of idolization, he supposed, but it was enough that it was messing with him.

 

_ I can’t keep fucking around like this. I have to win, I have to get Victor to come back, I have to show him that I can win gold, too, that I’m worth choreographing this program for. I can do this. _

 

The day of Hasetsu on Ice, Yuri tried to keep his composure as he prepared for his  _ Agape _ performance. He hadn’t completely nailed what  _ agape _ felt like to skate, and he only hoped he could perform it well enough to meet Victor’s standards.

 

As he skated, he felt himself tense with each motion.

 

_ This isn’t right. This isn’t right at all! Shit, shit, shit! I’m fucking ruining this, Victor’s never going to coach me now. _

 

He waved halfheartedly after he held his final position, knowing full well he had just bombed his perfomance.

 

_ I didn’t execute all the steps and the jumps weren’t nearly perfect. He’s going to stay in Japan, Victor’s really going to stay. _

 

He tried to keep from melting down as Yuuri skated  _ Eros. _ It was beyond breathtaking, Yuuri clearly having discovered whatever the hell it was that eros meant to him.

 

_ Pork cutlet bowls, my ass. God, even I can see he’s lusting after Victor. Disgusting. _

 

When Yuuri finished, the rink exploded and Yuri felt a hot, sick feeling sweep over him. Not able to put a name to the emotion as he watched Yuuri beam and wave, he walked out of the rink into the locker rooms, changing quickly. Feeling tears come to his eyes, he shrugged off Yuko’s words and made his way for the bus station.

 

_ This fucking sucks. I can’t believe I lost to Yuuri. I can’t believe...I can’t believe Victor won’t be skating with me. _

 

Finding a bus that would take him to the airport, Yuri found a seat and texted Yakov he was on his way home and shoved his phone back in his pocket. Exhausted, he allowed himself to doze a little, waking only when they reached the airport. 

 

_ Whatever. It doesn’t fucking matter. I’ll show them that I can win, I’ll show them that I can be the best. _

 

Angry tears rolled down his cheeks as he sniffed, rubbing his nose angrily. The bus lurched to a stop, Yuri grabbing his things and heading into the terminal, finding his airline. He knew he stood out with his blonde hair and leopard print, red-eyed and angry, but at the moment, he couldn’t care less.

 

He was  _ humiliated. _ Humiliated and upset, angry that he had lost, and sad that he had lost not only his connection to Yuuri, but seemingly to Victor as well. As he got his ticket and checked his bag, Yuri headed to his gate, sticking in his earbuds and letting some loud music play.

 

Resting his hands on his knees, he gritted his teeth as he went through his twitter feed, disgusted to see tweets from Victor and Katsudon, both excitedly celebrating Yuuri’s victory.

 

_ Fuck them. I’m going to win gold. I’m going to win gold and I won’t let anyone get in my way. If no one’s going to be there to support me, well, I guess I’ll just have to support myself. _

 

_ Watch out, pork cutlet. We’ll see how the qualifying skates shake out. _

_ Then, I’ll face you on the ice again.  _

_ And this time, I’ll win. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, we will be back with Otabek and we will span the entire year from the JJBek breakup to the GPF. Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!


	7. if it takes a war for us to meet...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek felt tears coming to his own eyes now, unable to stop as his voice got a little watery.
> 
> “I know you did. I don’t....I’m mad at you, but I don’t blame you,” Otabek said, “I don’t blame you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! This chapter, we're back with Otabek. It's actually part one of two, the second half will be up in a couple of days! I hope you enjoy!

When Otabek landed in Almaty, he wasn’t expecting his family to meet him. The flight had several stops and had taken over twenty one hours, so Otabek was nearly out of all the energy he possessed. He had sent a quick text to his parents letting them know he was coming home when he had taken off, but seeing them both at the end of the tarmac caused emotion to well up inside him, and even some tears to come to his eyes.

 

“Mom, _Dad,”_ he gasped, rushing forward, dragging his bag behind him as his mother threw her arms around his shoulders, murmuring to him in Kazakh. His father put a gentle arm across Otabek’s back, kissing the top of his head. Otabek sniffed a bit, a couple of tears falling as he just let himself be held. The bustling sounds of the airport dwindled down to nothing as Otabek allowed himself to relax in his parents’ arms.

 

“Oh honey,” his mom said sadly, pulling back after a moment and rubbing a tear from his cheek, “We’re so sorry. Are you going to be here long?”

 

Otabek swallowed hard, looking up at his parents through red-rimmed eyes. “Yeah. For good. I can’t go back. I just can’t.”

 

“Hush, it’s alright,” his father said, hugging Otabek fiercely, “Just come home with us. Your mom’s made a big dinner for you.”

 

Otabek nodded, his father taking his suitcase from him and his mother taking his hand. Walking with his parents, he felt like a child again, letting them guide him out of the airport and into their car.

 

The ride home was fairly quiet, Otabek eventually nodding off in the backseat. When he came to, his parents ushered him inside, his mother offering to unpack his suitcase while his father set the table for dinner.

 

“Why do you go have a rest?” his father asked, “Your mom and I can handle this.”

 

Otabek nodded, yawning as he climbed the stairs to his room. He hadn’t been home in over a year and the familiar smells of the house were bringing back childhood memories. He opened the door to his bedroom, pleased at the sight. There were clean sheets on the bed, his favorite blanket folded at the end. Everything looked as if it had been dusted and other than some stray hairs left by the family cat, the room was spotlessly clean.

 

Walking over to the bed, Otabek dropped down on his back, smiling in spite of himself as he saw an old poster of a band he had been into in his early teens still tacked to the ceiling. Feeling the jab of his cellphone in his pocket, he pulled it out, realizing that he had forgotten to turn it back on after he landed in Almaty.

 

Reaching for the power button, he lazily plugged it into the charger that his mom had left on his bedside table. The phone buzzed, assuring Otabek it was still working. But then it kept buzzing...and buzzing...and _buzzing._

 

_What the hell? Why do I have...fourteen missed calls? And thirty seven texts? What the hell…_

_Oh._

_Shit._

_I forgot to tell them I was leaving!_

 

Otabek pulled open his texts first, noticing a bulk of them were from JJ. He scrolled through them, feeling worse with each one.

 

 **JJ:** Hey I’m sorry we fought I really didn’t mean to upset you. I hate to do this again but I’ve got to get something out of the apartment

 **JJ:** Beks? You there?

 **JJ:** Ok you’re kind of starting to freak me out. Will you please answer? I’m at the apartment but you’re not here and there’s a freaking blizzard and your coach says you’re not at practice. Your stuff is still here where are you?

 **JJ:** Otabek answer me. I’ve called you like fifteen times! My parents called you also. We’re all worried.

 **JJ:** Oh my god Otabek just please let me know you’re okay. I’m freaking out here!

 **JJ:** It’s been over a day where the FUCK ARE YOU

 **JJ:** I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Just please let me know you’re okay. Fuck where are you?

 **JJ:** WHERE ARE YOU. If I don’t hear from you in the next four hours I’m calling the police. Please just be okay Beks. Please.

 

Otabek felt guilt seep through his body. He may be upset with JJ, but he had no intention of making him or anyone else worry about him. Swallowing hard, he realized the last text had been sent over two hours ago, JJ probably in a state of panic. He knew him well, and he knew that he may have caused JJ to have a panic attack by now. Raising his fingers, he typed quickly, unable to summon the courage to call.

 

 **Otabek:** I’m so sorry. I’m alright, I promise. I took a flight back home, I’m in Almaty with my parents. I really didn’t mean to worry you. My flight was over 20 hours and my phone was off.

 

JJ responded almost immediately.

 

 **JJ:** Fuck you. You scared the shit out of me. Can I call you? I know you’re mad at me, but I really need to hear your voice.

 

Otabek swallowed hard, biting his lip, before typing a quick ‘Yes’ in response. His phone began buzzing immediately after, JJ’s name displayed across the top of his phone. He pressed the answer button immediately, pressing speakerphone, too exhausted to hold the phone up to his ear.

 

 _“Otabek?”_ JJ choked out, sounding close to tears. Otabek’s gut clenched with guilt again at the thought of making JJ cry.

 

“I’m here,” he responded softly, “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

 

 _“Fuck you,”_ JJ whispered, sounding like he was really crying now, _“Thank God you’re alright. Goddamnit Beks, I thought something happened to you.”_

 

“I’m sorry,” Otabek said again, rubbing his forehead, “I just...I had to get out of there, JJ. I couldn’t...I was suffocating.”

 

 _“I know,”_ JJ murmured, _“I never meant...Otabek you have to know, I never meant for any of this to happen. I just...I needed to be honest with you about her.”_

 

Otabek felt tears coming to his own eyes now, unable to stop as his voice got a little watery.

 

“I know you did. I don’t....I’m mad at you, but I don’t blame you,” Otabek said, “I don’t blame you.”

 

It was hard to say, but he wanted JJ to know the truth. Even though he felt like his heart had been stomped on and crushed, he didn’t _blame_ JJ. In fact, he was glad that JJ had been so honest with him, glad that he hadn’t tried to hide Isabella from him or worse, cheat on him. JJ was honest, and Otabek had to respect that.

 

_“Are you...how long are you staying in Almaty? I can clean up our place, remember, my parents said you could stay-”_

 

“I’m not coming back to Canada,” Otabek interrupted, “I can’t.”

 

There was a silence on the other end of the line before JJ sniffed, sounding like he was crying again.

 

 _“So this...this is really it, huh?”_ JJ asked, a bit feebly.

 

“You broke up with _me,”_ Otabek responded, more forceful than necessary, before softening his voice. “I just had to get out of there. I need to be home, I miss my family and my friends.”

 

_“I know. I’m sorry.”_

“And JJ…” Otabek said hesitantly, “I think it would be best for both of us if we...cleared out our Instagrams. I don’t think Isabella wants to see all our pictures, not to mention we don’t need the press pulling them up if our break up goes public.”

 

_“Otabek…”_

 

“Please, JJ.”

 

_“Alright.”_

 

The rest of the conversation flowed a little awkwardly until they said their goodbyes. Otabek was too tired to cry, too tired to be emotional as he went through his Instagram, deleting picture after picture of him and JJ together. He made sure to save the pictures that were precious to him on his phone, but he deleted them all from public view.  Going through a year’s worth of photos was hard, but cathartic. After about fifteen minutes, his Instragram was couple-picture free, and Otabek was tired.

 

The next few weeks flew by in a busy sort of daze for Otabek. He managed to find a new home rink with a superb coach who was over the moon that the “Hero of Kazakhstan” had finally returned home. She was tough, but Otabek worked well with her, working non-stop to increase his chances at a place in the Grand Prix Final for the season. Practice was brutal, but it did well to occupy his thoughts from the pain of leaving Toronto behind.

 

In his spare time, Otabek was helping his father repair an old Harley they had in their garage. He had promised Otabek years back that if they fixed it up, he’d teach him how to ride, and Otabek _could not wait._ They were close to finishing the repairs on the bike and researching up about vehicle repair was opening a whole new world for him.

 

Another venue opened for him when a friend called him down for ametur DJ night at one of the clubs in Almaty. Being under eighteen, Otabek was technically too young to attend, but his friends snuck him in so he could watch. He quickly fell in love with watching varying DJs spin on the decks, and he resolved to get a set immediately so he could begin his own mixes.

 

His weekdays were spent almost completely on the skating, and once the Harley was up and running, Otabek began using it to get to the rink, much to his coach’s dismay. Despite the assurances the bike was safe, she had referred to it as the “metal death trap” and cringed each time she saw Otabek putting on his helmet and leathers at the end of practice.

 

Weekends were spent mixing, and as his eighteenth birthday began to approach, he started putting his name on lists for varying amateur DJ nights around the city. Once his birthday past, he was doing gigs at clubs and bars Friday and Saturday nights. He loved the rush of the crowd’s energy each time he stepped up to his decks, and he would get so into the music that sometimes he would forget he only had an hour long set.  

 

As placements for competitions were posted, Otabek did less DJing and more skating. He focused completely on his programs, doing everything his coach told him and practice with a fierce kind of determination. He allowed his creativity to come out as he planned a potential exhibition skate, an idea he stashed in his mind should he get that far in his competitions.

 

After one particularly hard practice, Otabek was catching a break on a bench and scrolling through his Instagram feed. As usual, he checked up on his friends and some fellow competition. He had been following Yuri Plisetsky closely since Victor Nikiforov had announced he was taking off the season to coach Katsuki Yuuri. His heart thudded with the thought of the chance at facing off against Yuri on the ice. He had been using the Russian as an inspiration for years, and he hoped they’d fall in at least one competition together so he could reconnect. He honestly wasn’t sure Yuri even remembered him.

 

Flipping to Yuri’s Instagram, he was shocked to see that it appeared Yuri had _followed_ Victor to Japan. Scrolling through some photos of Yuri at a market, with what appeared to be the Katsuki family, and finally a few of him with Victor and the other Yuuri, Otabek was shocked to learn that apparently, the two Yuri’s had faced off in some kind of contest.

 

And Yuri had _lost._

 

Whenever Otabek imagined Yuri, it was his soldier’s eyes, determination and strength oozing from every part of his being. He honestly couldn’t imagine Yuri losing. It was...well, it was like imagining _JJ_ losing. Yuri didn’t lose. He smashed Junior world records and was competing above the level of some of the senior skaters.

 

So how was it that champion Yuri Plisetsky had lost in a contest to the skater who had bombed so spectacularly in the season before? Otabek was unsure, but he was more determined than ever to meet Yuri again. If even just to thank him for being an inspiration during his junior days. He was disappointed that he and Yuri shared no qualifying rounds, but he worked hard to up his chances of success.

 

Part of it was about Yuri, part of it was about Kazakhstan's glory and success for himself.

 

A rather large part of it, he was loathe to admit, was about JJ.

 

He tried to keep JJ from his mind, but the thought of seeing him again during competition was beginning to become a bit of an obsession for him. He tried his best to focus on winning for himself and his country, but each time he’d go for a quad, JJ’s smiling face would flash through his mind. Otabek managed gold at the NHK trophy, and he placed well enough at his next competition that he earned a space in the Grand Prix Final.

 

Thrilled at the prospect of not only taking gold for his country, seeing JJ again, but also skating against Yuri was energising to him. He began to focus all of his efforts into his programs, as well as into his exhibition skate. He still rode the Harley to practice, still DJ’d on the weekends when he had time. But skating occupied his mind nearly completely. It had been almost a year since he had left Toronto and he could feel his energy beginning to return. He had begun to feel more like his normal self and despite still missing JJ desperately, he had begun to move on.

 

Or so he thought.

 

One Thursday after what felt like an endless week of practice, Otabek’s phone buzzed next to him on the bed. Looking down, his heart pounded as JJ’s name displayed across his phone. He hadn’t spoken verbally with JJ since his first week in Almaty, only texted, and anxiousness rose within him at the thought of answering the phone. Since JJ had obliged and removed their instagram pictures together, Otabek had been trying his hardest to push his ex boyfriend from his mind, focusing completely on his skating. But now, emotions he had been trying to suppress were welling up inside of him.

 

With slightly shaking fingers, Otabek pressed down on the green button, holding the phone to his ear.

 

“Hello?” he asked, softly, pleased that there were no tremors in his voice to betray his nerves.

 

 _“Otabek! I didn’t think you’d answer,”_ JJ said, quite cheerfully, _“How have things been going, man?”_

 

“Fine,” Otabek responded curtly, confusion rising inside of him. Why was JJ calling, anyway?

 

There was a little bit of an awkward pause and Otabek could hear some rustling paper and things on the other line.

 

 _“So, dude, I know we haven’t been talking a lot, but you know you’re still my best friend, right?”_ JJ asked quietly.

 

Otabek swallowed hard. “Yeah, I know, JJ. What’s going on? Is there a particular reason you called?”

 

JJ sighed on the other line, sounding a little nervous. _“Well, yeah. I mean, it’s been...nearly a year, you know, since Bella and I...well, you might think I’m out of my mind, but I kind of...proposed. And Beks...she...she said yes.”_

 

Otabek felt his heart drop into his stomach. He couldn’t believe that this was happening so fast; he wasn’t _stupid,_ he knew JJ and Isabella were in love, but he hadn’t imagined having to deal with feelings like this for another few years, at least.

 

“JJ, you’re only nineteen,” was Otabek’s response, voice once again not betraying his emotions.

 

 _“I know,”_ JJ responded in a rushed voice, _“But we both think it’s right, so why wait? The wedding is set for after the end of this season. And I was wondering...hell, I hope this isn’t awkward, but you are my best friend. Beks, I was hoping you’d be my best man.”_

 

Otabek felt like all the air had been punched out of him. He was trying so very hard to get over JJ, but hearing his voice again brought up all the old emotions he had been working so hard to overcome. Having a _wedding_ thrown at him was one thing, but _this?_

 

“Your...best man?” Otabek asked dryly, “JJ...are you sure?”

 

 _“Yeah, of course! Bella wants you to be, also,”_ JJ said, sounding nervous, _“It...it’d mean a lot to us, especially me.”_

 

“Alright, I will,” Otabek responded, voice sounding far away, even to himself, “Just...email me the details, okay?”

 

 _“You will? Oh, thanks man, you’re the best! Can’t wait to see you at the GPF, congrats by the way,”_ JJ laughed, sounding pleased.

 

“You too,” Otabek said, “It’ll be nice to watch you skate again.”

 

 _“You too, Beks,”_ JJ said softly, _“Hey, listen, I’ve got to get going. I’ll talk to you soon, yeah?”_

 

“Yeah, sure. Bye, JJ,” Otabek said, JJ responding before hanging up.

 

Otabek sat down on his bed, hard. He ran a hand through his hair, vaguely noting that he was shaking. Otabek felt the hot tears roll down his face as he collapsed sideways onto his bed. Maneuvering himself so that his face was buried in his pillow, he allowed himself to cry. It didn’t feel as raw as when JJ had broken up with him, but it still hurt.

  

 _What the hell was_ **_that?_ ** _I can’t believe...did I really just sign up to be his best man? I...how could he ask me that? What am I going to do when I see him in Spain?_

_And when I'm there, how the hell am I going to manage to meet Yuri again?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next half is mainly the GPF (from Otabek's POV). Thank you for the lovely reviews so far. Please let me know what you think! <3


	8. ...it will have been worth it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey! What are you staring at, asshole?”
> 
>  
> 
> _Damn. That did not go as planned. Play it cool._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Here's part two of Otabek's GPF experience. I hope you enjoy!

When Otabek landed in Spain, his nerves were nearly frayed to pieces.

 

Not only did he have pre-competition jitters, but he was also terrified at the prospect of seeing JJ face-to-face for the first time in a year. On top of running into his ex, he also was nervous about meeting Yuri again.

 

_He probably doesn’t even remember me. That’s okay, we’ll start over._

 

The hotel was nice, the same one where all the skaters were staying. His parents were staying in Almaty, but they sent him off with love and support, apologizing that they couldn’t be at the actual event. Otabek understood; they couldn’t get out of work was all.

 

His coach was excited for him, got him checked in and over to the rink in no time. He practiced for a while, determinedly ignoring everyone on the ice. JJ didn’t even _acknowledge_ him as they both practiced, and Otabek spent a lot of his time trying _not_ to stare at Yuri, who was working near him. His stomach twisted each time JJ would come near him, feeling a little out of control.

 

When practice was over, Otabek changed into street clothes, heading down to the lobby and thinking about how he was going to spend his first night, when a familiar voice cut through the crowd.

 

“Hey Otabek!” JJ called happily. Otabek’s stomach twisted as he turned, feeling a little closed in as he saw JJ with his arm around Isabella’s shoulders. The conversation was curt and a little impolite, Otabek not wanting to give away too much of his emotions. He felt out of control again, a wild sense of fear and anger, before a head of blonde hair caught his eye, and Otabek turned to find himself eye-to-eye with Yuri.

 

_Shit._

 

“Hey! What are you staring at, asshole?”

 

 _Damn._ _That did not go as planned. Play it cool._

 

“Huh?” Yuri said as Otabek turned his back without a word, heading out the door onto the street. It was time to plan.

 

Several hours later, Otabek found himself furiously researching on the computer. He was looking for a place where could talk to Yuri where they’d have some uninterrupted time. It seemed hard to get Yuri on his own; he was either hard at work in practice with his coaches running him ragged, or being whisked around Spain by Victor Nikiforov and Katsuki Yuuri.

 

Their hotel offered brochures on Barcelona’s top tourist attractions and after flipping through for a while, Otabek came across the perfect place. Park Güell, it was called. He researched it online, thrilled at the view, ticket prices not too bad. Without thinking too much about it, he grabbed two tickets for a slot the next night, hoping that he’d manage to get Yuri alone to talk.

 

If not, he supposed it’d still be one hell of a view.

 

The next step was transportation. Thinking about his dad’s Harley and the amount of time he had been riding, Otabek had gotten his international license back in Almaty, and he knew it wouldn’t be too hard to rent a motorcycle while he was here. Luckily, there was a rental location not far from their hotel, so after practice he’d made his way over, picking the bike closest to the one he drove at home, and two helmets.

 

The tickets were for that evening and Otabek realized, sitting on his motorcycle and driving aimlessly around Barcelona, he hadn’t thought about how he was actually going to _find_ Yuri. Pulling over to the side of the road, he felt like smacking his forehead.

 

_Idiot. All this planning just to reconnect with him and you didn’t think about the most important step? Who can I text? I don’t know anyone well enough who knows him. And he hates JJ, so there’s no way he’d have Yuri’s number...oh, that’s right. His fangirls!_

 

Pulling out his phone, JJ searched up the Yuri’s Angels twitter account, slightly pleased and a little sickened to see that they had been keeping tabs on Yuri since his arrival. The latest tweet said **“Yurachka spotted shopping downtown Barcelona! He’s on…”**

 

Otabek read the rest of the information, a solid plan forming in his head. He knew that Yuri was probably desperate to get away from his fans, judging by his expressions with them in photos, and he figured he could at least swing by and lend a hand.

 

The tickets shouldn’t go to waste, right?

 

Kicking his bike into gear, Otabek road down the street to the location the girls had posted. Sure enough he found Yuri, and before he knew it, Yuri had hopped on the back of his motorcycle and they were heading down the street.

 

_I can’t believe that actually worked. Crap, now I have to talk to him._

 

They rode in silence for a while and eventually, Yuri shifted from gripping the handles on the backseat to cautiously putting them on Otabek’s waist. He was surprised for a moment, but it didn’t seem that strange, especially given that they were going pretty fast. After about fifteen minutes of riding, the impressive structure of Park Güell came into view. Otabek parked the bike, stepping off while Yuri follow suite, both placing their helmets on the motorcycle.

 

“Uh, where are we?” Yuri asked, looking a little nervous, but not unimpressed, as he took in the scenery.

 

“Park Güell,” Otabek answered more effortlessly than he felt, “I have two tickets to go in just a little while. Do you want to come with me?”

 

Yuri looked confused. “Seriously? Me? Why’d you help me, anyways?”

 

Otabek sensed Yuri was stressed and confused and he briefly wondered why before it struck him.

 

_He doesn’t remember me._ _He doesn’t remember me at all._

 

“We’ve met,” Otabek answered shortly, “We were friends years ago.”

 

“Eh?” Yuri scoffs, looking confused as they walked up the stairs. The awkwardness melted away after a few minutes until they were talking. Just talking, about how they met, their feelings about skating, about competition.

 

“So, are you going to be friends with me or not?” he asked, Yuri taking his hand in a silent _yes_ . They gripped hands for a while, watching the sunset, until their time was up and they had to head back down the stairs. After he had asked Yuri to be his friend, his demeanor had changed from being prickly to-Otabek had to admit-downright _adorable._

 

“Yeah, so Potya, that’s my cat, he jumps up right on the table and gets rice _all over_ Yakov. It was hilarious, Lilla even took a picture. Yakov was so pissed, it was great. Oh, and did you know that Yakov used to skate to stupid hippie music? Well, Victor found a recording of him one day, and…”

 

Otabek smiled lightly as he listened to Yuri ramble on while they walked towards the parked motorcycle. He had the sense that Yuri didn’t talk like this with a lot of people, or perhaps no one, because after about ten minutes of Yuri’s stories and Otabek’s quiet laughs, Yuri begun to sound hoarse.

 

It was then that Otabek noticed the blush on Yuri’s face and he realized Yuri was _nervous._

 

_Wow, what a great friend you are, Otabek._

 

“Hey, do you want to go get something to drink after I drop off the bike?” Otabek asks while the clip on their helmets, “There’s this cool coffee bar I saw earlier by the hotel.”

 

“Yeah!” Yuri exclaimed, blushing still, but with a bright smile, “I mean, that sounds cool, I guess.”

 

Otabek smirked, motioning his head to signal Yuri to get on the bike. The ride back was just as nice, warm air whipping through the wind, Yuri’s light hands on his waist. Otabek had to admit it was _nice_ to have a friend, someone outside of Almaty and his rink mates in Canada. Yuri reminded him of childhood, safe and warm and nostalgic.

 

Not to mention, they were so like-minded it was actually a little scary.

 

“So then I told him to fuck off,” Yuri laughed over the coffee mugs a while later, Otabek smiling happily over at him.

 

“Yeah, I don’t blame you. I definitely would have said that too,” Otabek laughed. The conversation flew, light and easy, both of them ignoring the clock. Everything was going fine, wonderful even, until they were interrupted.

 

“What the hell you doing here, pig?” Yuri spat, frowning angrily and closing himself off, much like Otabek had seen him do to others during the week.

 

“Yurio!” Katsuki Yuuri said cheerfully, completely unphased, “And Otabek, hi! Listen, Victor and I and some of our friends were going out to dinner. You guys want to come?”

 

Yuri scoffed, looking over at Otabek who shrugged noncommittally. In truth, Otabek was terrified because _what if ‘friends’ means JJ and Isabella?_ But he wanted Yuri to feel comfortable, so he keeps his expression neutral.

 

“Who?” Yuri sighed, rolling his eyes. Yuuri positively _beams_ then.

 

“Me, Victor, some of my friends and family from home, Yuri you met them, Chris, and Phichit,” Yuuri said cheerfully.

 

Yuri was looking at Yuuri with an odd expression, like he couldn’t quite put his finger on something. “Why are you so damn happy, pig?” Yuri scoffed, slapping some money on the table before standing up.

 

_Wait did he seriously just pay for all of that? He didn’t have to._

 

“No reason,” Yuuri said brightly, “Come on, we’ve found a great place down the street!”

 

The walk over to the outdoor restaurant wasn’t unpleasant, but Otabek had definitely preferred when it had just been him and Yuri. He had been intimidated by Victor for approximately five seconds, until he had opened his mouth.

 

“Yurio! Otabek! Hello!” he grinned with a thousand-watt smile, so cheerful and happy that Otabek rather felt like he was looking at the sun. He blabbed on and on, Yuuri and their Japanese friends, whom Otabek didn’t know, were all laughing and talking happily. Yuri did a lot of eye-rolling and spiteful commenting while Otabek stayed mainly silent, walking at Yuri’s side.

 

He couldn’t remember the last time he had done something like this at a competition on his own. In fact, he wasn’t sure he ever had. It was JJ who would drag him out, JJ who would make him socialize. Now, he was the one helping someone else, someone closed-off, like him.

 

Being with Yuri was _nice._ His sarcasm and wit made Otabek smile and laugh in spite of himself, enthralled by his friend’s tenacity. When they finally reached the tent, the dinner went well, Otabek smirking a little as he clapped while Yuri gagged at Victor and Yuuri’s engagement announcement. He felt a little bad for Yuuri, as many of the jokes at dinner were at his expense, but all of that flew out of his head when he heard a familiar voice.

 

“I’ll be the one winning gold and getting married!” JJ grinned, arm thrown over Isabella.

 

Otabek was going to be _sick._

 

Thankfully, the other skaters seemed as put off as he was, everyone quickly paying for dinner and leaving. Otabek felt a twinge of guilt as JJ called after them, “Hey, it was just a joke!” He knew JJ’s anxiety about the competition was probably acting up and that’s why he was being obnoxious, but he tried to push it aside to focus his attention back on Yuri.

 

“What a dick,” Yuri commented rolling his eyes, “As if any of us could stand to eat with him and his stupid fiance.”

 

Otabek gave a kind of noncommittal grunt while he listened to Yuri change the topic to some of his favorite music.

 

_Oh, that reminds me, I was going to book a DJ spot in a club for after the free skate. I should do that tonight._

 

When they bade each other good night, Otabek realized that he had spent nearly eight hours with Yuri, and they hadn’t stopped talking, not even once. He marvelled at that for a moment, congratulating himself on the brilliance of his plan, before shaking his head and getting into the mindset for the competition.

 

At the competition the next day, Otabek was trying his hardest to keep himself focused. Isabella was there, as were JJ’s parents, whom he hadn’t seen since the breakup. They waved at him from a distance and not trying to be rude, he waved back. He could tell they probably thought him over the breakup, but it was nothing that Otabek couldn’t handle.

 

_I’ll keep pretending for my sake as well as his. As much as I can’t stand being around him right now, I don’t want to ruin his wedding._

 

The short program began and it was _exhilarating_ to watch. Yuri _smashed_ Victor’s record and Otabek cheered from the sidelines. Trying to keep his own head in the game, he got himself ready to skate, thrilled to hear a “DAVAI!” coming from the stands. Otabek shot Yuri a thumbs-up, grateful for the support.

 

His music started and Otabek tried to let it all go. He had been training for this, training for a _year._ He’s proud of himself over all, thinking about meeting Yuri as a kid, frustrated beyond belief at how strong and flexible Yuri had been, while he himself had failed so spectacularly at ballet. He tried to keep in mind the struggles he had been through while he landed all of his jumps, proud of himself when the music finished. After he received his score in the kiss-and-cry, he went over to the side of the rink, ready to relax for the rest of the night.

 

In all of his focus on his program, he had forgotten that JJ was skating directly after him. Unintentionally shooting JJ a rather nasty glare from across the ice, Otabek scowled and went to sit down. He wasn’t sure if JJ had seen or not, but his anger greatly diminished as he noticed JJ’s hands were shaking slightly.

 

_Oh no._

 

Otabek had seen JJ skate like this once before and he remembered how it had ended. Fortunately, it had just been practice that day, but JJ had still fallen apart, crying in Otabek’s arms by the end of it. Swallowing nervously, Otabek sat and gripped the seats, watching JJ skate.

 

Halfway through, Otabek wanted to tear his eyes away but he _couldn’t._ Watching JJ was like watching a trainwreck. He saw Isabella with tears in her eyes, call out in support, and soon the whole audience was supporting him, too. Otabek felt sick, wondering guiltily if he had been the cause.

 

_Did me ignoring him and shooting him that look...did I do this?_

 

JJ finished his program, looking _wrecked_ and Otabek couldn’t handle it anymore. Standing, he headed out to the locker rooms, changing out of his costume and into street clothes, hoping the tears wouldn’t fall. A sudden familiar voice shocked him as he walked out of the locker room.

 

“Otabek,” Isabella said quietly, sounding like she was about to cry, “Otabek, I know you hate me, but JJ needs you. I...I’ve never seen him like this.”

 

Otabek sucked in a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure. “I don’t hate you,” he said quietly, looking her in the eye, “And I can’t be there for him. He doesn’t need me, he needs _you.”_

 

“I don’t know what to do,” she choked out, tears in her eyes, “He’s...he’s a _mess.”_

 

Otabek reached up and rubbed at his temple, eyes closed as he felt a headache coming on. “Remind him that he’s not,” Otabek said softly, “I saw you cheer him on the ice. That’s what he needs right now.”

 

Sniffing, Isabella wiped at her eyes. “Thanks, Otabek.”

 

“Of course.”

 

When Otabek lay in bed that night, he tried to focus on the exhilaration he felt watching his new friend break a world record, instead of the pain he had experienced during JJ’s defeat.

 

Strangely, he’d think later, he didn’t think for a second about himself.

 

The next day, if possible, was actually _worse._

 

Otabek’s performance is strong, but so is all of the skating that day. Yuri is absolutely _stunning_ in his free skate, and Otabek has to restrain himself from squeezing the life out of his friend in pride. Even JJ does well, ridiculously so, given the performance yesterday. When the numbers are in and the skating is done, Otabek is resigned when he sees his name in the fourth place slot.

 

_How could JJ beat me? How...well, his skate did have a higher base value._

 

A little sad with his loss but overall pleased for the winners, Otabek thought about the next day, to his exhibition skate. He was DJing tonight at a hard club that had a lot of attendance, something to get his head out of his loss and his nerves for the exhibition skate the next day.

 

His ex skate was a surprise, something he hadn’t performed all season. He had used a simpler routine for his skate in other shows, saving this one for a particular person. Otabek wasn’t sure if the message would get through to JJ, but he hoped...he hoped.

 

_At least I can say goodbye to him. At least he’ll see it._

 

As the press interviews of all the skaters concluded, Otabek sighed heavily, packing up his gear and heading out to his hotel. He had a few hours before his gig started, but he needed to get there early to work on his presets on the soundboard. Sliding his leg over his rented bike, Otabek clipped on his helmet, sighing a little as he thought about his defeat.

 

_I might as well get in a good, solid gig of DJing while I’m out here, because it sure doesn’t look like my skating career is going anywhere. Who remembers the person in fourth place? Oh well, at least I got to meet Yuri after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is Welcome to the Madness from Yuri's POV, and then we'll be all caught up with canon! Please let me know what you think! <3


	9. we'll tell the story of tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ugh, this is going to be such a pain if we don’t hurry up and get over this and send him back to the hotel.”
> 
> Yuri felt his confidence waver more. He knew how other people felt about him, but hearing it so blatantly still hurt. He suddenly had a strange surge of affection for Yuuri and Victor, who seemed to put up with him no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELCOME TO THE MADNESS.
> 
> A lot of the dialogue comes from the manga, because I wanted to stay as close to canon as possible.

“Ugh, I don’t wanna do the exhibition,” Yuri groaned, flopping over dramatically at dinner with his coaches. He knew the gold medalist always goes last in the exhibition skate, and he was already dreading another long day at the rink.

 

“If you’re going to whine about your program, do it in the privacy of your own room,” Yakov growled, “You’re spoiling our drink.”

 

_Yeah, that’s me, the dumb kid who gets in the way, not good enough for any of you no matter how well I medal, I know._

 

Yuri snips back and forth with them for a bit before a familiar figure crosses outside. Gasping, he leapt up from the table, racing to the door and after his friend.

 

“Otabek!” he called, “You goin’ out somewhere?”

 

Otabek turned, face as impassive as ever. “A friend of mine is DJing at club, I’m going to watch.”

 

“Seriously?” Yuri cried excitedly, “Lemme come too!”

 

Otabek hesitated for a moment before asking, “How...how old are you now?”

 

“Fifteen!” Yuri said proudly, “Sixteen in March.”

 

Before he can even realize it, Otabek is on his motorcycle and down the street, away from him, saying something about Yuri being too young.

 

“YOU’RE ONLY EIGHTEEN YOURSELF, IDIOT!” he screamed after him, angrily kicking at the ground.

 

_You’re abandoning me on a night when I’m all fucked up? And you call yourself my friend? I knew it was fucking too good to last, we’re through._

 

Yuri stormed down the street, angrily shoving his hands in his pockets.

 

_If...if I stop talking to him though, who will listen to me bitch? Who will be there for me? Ugh, this is so fucking stupid. What club did he go to?_

 

Yuri broke into a run, ignoring a group of his fans who called out to him, quickly looking for the first club he could find. The music was pounding and loud and he walked up to the door, only to find himself picked up and thrown out on the street like trash by a bouncer.

 

Humiliated and ashamed, Yuri drew his knees up to his chest, looking down at the ground, trying to keep the tears from falling as he felt a sting in his backside from being thrown out into the road. His embarrassment furthered when he noticed four of his fellow skaters staring at him on the street.

 

“I just wanted to find Otabek,” he sniffed, rubbing his eyes.

 

“You just wanted to find the club he was at?” Mila’s soft voice came from behind.

 

“I don’t think this is the type of place he’d go,” Sara cooed, putting a gentle hand on Yuri’s shoulder. He wasn’t even sure where they had come from, but he was too embarrassed to look up at them.

 

“Why not just give him a call? Aren’t you friends?” Mila asked.

 

“He’s not picking up,” Yuri answered in a small voice.

 

“I see,” Mila said quietly, “Well, want to hang out with us?”

 

“Hell no!” Yuri spat, looking away, facing burning with shame.

 

_I’m not a damn charity case or a pity party. Just leave me the fuck alone._

 

“Pipe down,” he sneered at Sara’s dumb brother, who was yelling in his ear about something. Before he could register it, someone was lifting him up and holding him in the air.

 

_Fucking hell, not again! I’m not some weak little kid, stop fucking touching me! I hate them! Put me down! This fucking sucks, I’m not your toy!_

 

“Cut it out!” he cried, embarrassed to discover that he was close to tears, “Put me down!”

 

“Promise to stop being rude?” Sara asked, an annoying grin on her face, “Just how long are you planning on acting like a grouchy stray cat, anyways?”

 

The words,  _You’re a gold medalist. Act like it, were_  heavily implied.

 

“Try putting yourself in Otabek’s shoes,” Mila interrupts, “You _beat_ him, Yuri. In your senior debut. Friends or not, he may need tonight for himself.”

 

_That’s bullshit!_

 

“What should I have to leave him alone when he’s my friend?” Yuri growled, “If he’s pissed at me, he should just say it! I’ve got to tell him something and if...if I can’t, I refuse to skate tomorrow! I won’t do it!’

 

He practically sees Mila’s eyes roll into the back of her skull before she sighed heavily.

 

_I know, I’m just a fucking burden to you people._

 

“Is this a way of demanding we help you?”

“Can’t you say anything without it sounding like a threat?”

“Naughty kitty!”

“Ugh, this is going to be such a pain if we don’t hurry up and get over this and send him back to the hotel.”

 

Yuri felt his confidence waver more. He knew how other people felt about him, but hearing it so blatantly still hurt. He suddenly had a strange surge of affection for Yuuri and Victor, who seemed to put up with him no matter what.

 

“Alright, we’ll work together to help, but you have to call them yourselves,” Mila said.

 

“Eh?” Yuri gaped.

 

_No, no, please no, don’t make me call them. I’d rather die than call them on the phone, oh my god, is the exhibition skate even worth it?_

 

After a brief phone number exchange, Yuri found himself dialing the first number he was given, an American skater he had never spoken to in his life.

 

“This is...Yuri...Plisetsky,” he said awkwardly, blush deepening on his face. He managed to hack his way through the rest of the calls, trying desperately to not sound as scared as he felt. Once he managed to find Otabek’s location, he rushed out an awkward “thank you” to Sara, Mila, Emil, and Mickey before racing back to the hotel.

 

Quickly changing into the clothing he and Otabek had gotten together while shopping the day before, after the gross dinner under the tent, he exhaled sharply and headed back out into the night. The club Otabek was at wasn’t too far from the hotel, fortunately, and Yuri managed to weasel his way past the bouncer and inside.

 

The music was _raging,_ the club loud and full of people. Yuri scanned the crowd for Otabek, almost laughing in shock as he noticed him not in the crowd, but behind the decks.

 

_What a liar! Oh my god, he’s a DJ? That is so cool._

 

Yuri smirked, making his way over to the back of the club where Otabek was working. When he got close enough, he lowered his glasses, not missing as Otabek went from scowling to smirking in a matter of moments.

 

_Now, throw me down a banging song, Mr. DJ._

 

Yuri smirked, pointing his finger at Otabek, who pointed back, pressing some buttons and switching over to a screaming rock song.

 

_What the hell is this song? It’s so fucking cool!_

 

Before he could think about it, Yuri raced over, climbing over the soundboard, trying his best not to distort any of the controls.

 

“Otabek!” he screamed over the music, “I want to skate to this song for my exhibition!”

 

 _“What?”_ Otabek yelled in shock. Pressing a few buttons, Otabek’s set changed into a playlist of pre-made mixes, things that Yuri presumed could keep the club going for a while. Otabek motioned for him to follow and they went out a back door, stepping out into the night. Yuri wasn’t expecting the chill, and he really wasn’t even that cold, but Otabek was wordlessly handing him his sweatshirt, so Yuri took it without question, pulling it over his shoulders.

 

Yuri explained his mad plan to Otabek, his desire to change his skate and his song, feeling dissatisfied with his current exhibition skate. Otabek looked like he couldn’t believe it at first, but the more Yuri talked, the more Otabek seemed to agree.

 

“So...I just wanted to get your advice, is all,” Yuri mumbled, looking down at the ground in embarrassment.

 

“I see, I’m sorry then,” Otabek said. Yuri looked over, watching Otabek hide his face in his hands.

 

_Is he fucking smiling? What the hell?_

 

“I didn’t want things to end awkwardly between us,” Yuri stammered, “I...it’s been bugging me.”

 

Otabek nodded in agreement. “Alright, I’ll help. But if we’re going to make something...let’s make something so cool, it will lay everyone flat out. That’s the Yuri I most want to see!”

 

“Yeah!” Yuri exclaimed enthusiastically, grabbing onto one of Otabek’s hands.

 

“Let’s do this, Beka.”

 

An hour later, they were begging for late-night permission to use the rink, an employee finally giving in. They skated for hours into the night, Otabek helping Yuri with ideas and both of them pulling up endless videos of Johnny Weir to help inspire the performance.

 

Eventually, at three a.m., they both agreed that the skate was as clean as it was going to get. Yuri was nearly blind with exhaustion, having skated the performance of his _life_ only hours before. He stumbled from the rink, Otabek holding him up as he yawned sleepily.

 

“I’m fucking _tired,”_ Yuri moaned as they crashed towards the elevator in the hotel, “What floor are you on?”

 

“Six,” Otabek yawned sleepily, rubbing at his eyes.

 

“I’m on thirteen,” Yuri grumbled, “Can I just crash in your room?”

 

Otabek nodded, rubbing his eyes again. “Yeah, no problem.”

 

The elevator dinged to announce it’s arrival, both of them walking out and heading towards Otabek’s room. Otabek dug around in his pocket for his keycard, swiping it lazily and opening the door. Yuri grumbled, walking through and collapsing on one of the beds that was unmade, not even taking off his shoes before closing his eyes. Otabek followed suite, crashing on his own bed.

 

“Night, Yura,” Otabek mumbled sleepily.

 

_Yura. I like that._

 

“Night Beka,” he grumbled back, “Thanks for helping me.”

 

The next morning was hell, both of them getting up ungodly early to prepare for the exhibition skate. Yuri had managed to duck his coaches all morning, sticking mainly with Otabek as they tried to focus long enough to stay awake enough to eat through lunch.

 

When the time finally came for the exhibition skate, Yuri waved goodbye to Otabek, giving him a “Davai” for good luck. Otabek smiled and stepped onto the ice, his music beginning with a soft piano riff before exploding into drums.

 

Yuri watched Otabek skate with curiosity. The song was not at _all_ what he’d pictured Otabek skating to, it was calm, and light, the lyrics something Yuri didn’t understand. The skating style was strange, too, it was almost...well, it looked to Yuri like Otabek was trying to do a pair skate, alone.

 

He had no idea the theme or the song, but he could _feel_ it in Otabek’s skating. There was something about this routine that made him keep thinking _Goodbye._ To whom was Otabek saying goodbye? Yuri was curious, but the powerful routine quickly swept him away, thoughts gone as he focused on each movement.

 

Halfway through the performance, Yuri turned towards the edge of the rink and was surprised to see JJ and Isabella standing and waiting, as JJ was set to go next. And JJ was _crying._ Watching Otabek’s exhibition skate with tears running down his face.

 

_What the hell is this about? Doesn’t he have to go on in a minute? He’s probably still pissed he bombed so bad in the short program. Asshole doesn’t deserve bronze._

 

Shoving JJ out of his mind, Yuri applauded as Otabek finished, standing to go prepare for his own skate. He had to change before Yakov and Lilia saw his new outfit, knowing they’d disapprove. He headed down to met Otabek at the side of the rink, who was looking tired, but proud of himself.

 

“That was fucking awesome,” Yuri said quickly, “You looked so cool out there.”

 

Otabek smiled gently. “Thanks, Yuri. Hey, are you ready? Need any help setting up?”

 

Yuri nodded, “Yeah, let’s go into the locker room and then we can catch Katsudon’s skate.”

 

“Sounds good.”

 

Yuri changed quickly, tight pants, shirt and jacket making him feel powerful. Otabek wordlessly handed him his sunglasses and Yuri smirked, pulling his hair into a half bun. Otabek changed as well, into a simple black outfit, his street clothes, wanting to be comfortable now that he had finished. After Yuri spent a few minutes applying makeup with Otabek’s help, they stepped out into the tunnel, hearing the tones of _Stammi Vicino_ playing over the loudspeaker.

 

“THOSE DAMN PIGS!” Yuri growled as he looked on the ice, watching in disgust as Yuuri and Victor began to skate together.

 

“I guess our surprises overlapped,” Otabek sighed, tapping his chin. Yuri was overcome with fury and jealousy.

 

_Am I never going to get my moment? No matter what I do, someone always overshadows me. I broke a fucking record and won gold, and all the media is talking about is Katsucky and his stupid silver._

 

Otabek was walking but Yuri threw his arm out, effectively blocking his path. “Otabek! Stop! We’re friends, right?”

 

“Of course,” Otabek said, sounding a little unsure, “Yuri, what-”

 

“For my exhibition, you’re going to be in it to,” Yuri says, eyes blazing, “We’ll be even more intense than those two.”

 

Otabek seemed stunned into silence, unable to respond as Yuri boldly drew closer, pressing their foreheads together as he grabbed Otabek's shirt.

 

“You wanna see me lay them all out flat, right?” Yuri smirked, “So are you gonna do it, or not? There’s only one answer.”

 

Otabek swallowed hard, looking down at Yuri’s face and then out to the ice. His disbelieving look is gone after a moment, replaced by a smirk.

 

“I’m in,” he said, “Tell me what to do.”

 

Yuri grinned, tapping his chin while he pulled away to think. “Well, you know how I was going just to pull off my gloves? What if you’re at the side and you do it for me?”

 

Otabek nodded, a mischievous kind of glint in his eye. “Yeah, that’d be cool. And at the end, when you fall…”

 

“Shoot me,” Yuri interrupts, “Like at the club.”

 

Otabek grinned fully at that, nodding as Yuri got set on the ice. The audience was still losing it over Victor and Yuuri’s performance, and Yuri is fairly certain that the two of them were actually _kissing._

 

_Gross. Fucking assholes. I’ll show them._

 

Yuri ignored the stares and comments from his coaches regarding his attire, and simply skated to the center of the ice. There was an air of anticipation from the crowd as no one recognized Yuri’s costume. He waited for the music to start, throwing himself into the motions. He caught Otabek at the edge of the ice out of the corner of his eye and managed not to smile.

 

When the time came, Yuri skated over, thrusting his hand out, Otabek yanking off his gloves. Caught up in the heat of the moment, Yuri thrust his hand out, fingers going _into Otabek’s mouth._

 

_Shit, shit, shit._

 

Before he can be embarrassed, Otabek bit off Yuri’s glove, hanging it out of his mouth with a smirk. Yuri smirked back before skating away, body thrumming with adrenaline. He could barely believe what he had just done but he was beyond excited. He had never felt like this while skating before, had never felt more like himself on the ice.

 

The last screaming lines of music and descending guitar riffs smacked down through the speakers and Otabek raised his finger, Yuri falling into a dramatic landing. The audience screamed louder than Yuri had ever heard and adrenaline and pride rushed through him. He heard skates coming over near him, Otabek’s hand reaching down to pull Yuri up.

 

“Beka, we _did it!”_ Yuri cheered as he hugged him happily, waving at his fans from the ice, “Did you see their _faces?”_

 

“Yeah,” Otabek smirked, looking like he was thinking about something, “Yeah, I did.”

 

“C’mon, Beka, let’s go celebrate!”

 

They skated off the ice, cheers from the audience still ringing in their ears. They continued to talk excitedly as they made their way to the locker room, pulling off their skates and laughing.

 

_I showed those pigs. I showed them, and with Beka’s help, I fucking smashed everyone’s expectations._

 

“YURACHKA!” Yakov yelled, storming over, Lilia in tow, “What the _hell_ was that?”

 

Yuri drew himself up to his full height, Otabek behind him. “It was my free skate. I choreographed it myself last night, with Otabek’s help.”

 

Yakov opened his mouth, presumably to yell more, but they were interrupted by lots of loud yelling.

 

“Yuri, that was _amazing!”_ Victor laughed, picking Yuri up and hugging him tightly, “Completely incredible!”

 

“You were unstoppable!” Yuuri chimed in, looking at Otabek a bit suspiciously, “We were a little surprised to see you, though, Otabek. You weren’t scheduled to skate with him.”

 

“I didn’t skate,” Otabek responded cooly, causing Yuri to smirk, “Yuri did all the work.”

 

“Damn right I did,” Yuri chimed in fiercely, “I worked my _ass_ off to learn this routine.”

 

“Well, I must admit, it was very impressive, despite being inappropriate,” Lilia said smoothly, “Although, if I were you, I wouldn’t ignore that ringing phone anymore. You have some explaining to do to your grandfather.”

 

_Oh._

_Fuck._

 

Yuri’s phone was ringing on a table in the corner and he ignored the teasing comments from Victor, walking over to answer. He had spoken to his grandfather last night after his win, but he was suddenly sure if he answered now, it wasn’t going to be as uplifting of a conversation.

 

“Hello?” he said a bit nervously.

 

 _“Yurachka,”_ his grandpa said quietly, _“That was a new routine.”_

 

“Yes...yes it was,” Yuri said nervously, blatantly not looking at Otabek or anyone else.

 

_“It was a bit...provocative.”_

 

“I’m sorry!” Yuri bursts out, blush rising in his cheeks. He hated apologizing, hated showing weakness, but that always went out the window when he spoke to his grandfather.

 

_“It’s alright, Yuri, I understand. You are young and you want to explore different sides of yourself. I will always support that. But I do not like what these websites are calling you now.”_

 

Yuri swallowed hard, hating the disappointment in his grandfather’s voice. “Calling me...what?”

 

_“You don’t need to know. Just know that while I don’t approve of you taking off your clothes during your performances, I support your right to skate how you choose. You think I am upset with you, don’t you?”_

 

“Yes,” Yuri choked out, embarrassed that he had tears in his eyes. Fortunately, the others had moved out of the locker room to give him space, save Otabek, as Yuri had his hand in a vice grip.

 

_“Hush, my boy. I am not disappointed in you. How could I be? You broke a world record, you won a gold medal, and more importantly, I love you. I am proud of you, just worried. Please, don’t read the articles about yourself, alright Лапочка?”_

 

“Dedushka,” Yuri sobbed, the nickname getting to him more than anything, “I’m so _sorry.”_

 

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder and he stiffened for a moment before realizing it was Otabek, and relaxing under the hand.

 

_“Hush, Yurachka. Relax, spend time with your friend Otabek and enjoy your win, alright? We can talk more when you come home. I love you.”_

 

“I love you, too,” Yuri sniffs, before they exchange goodbyes, Yuri hanging up. He still had a grip on one of Otabek’s hands and Otabek still had a hand on his shoulder as well. Yuri was embarrassed for a moment that he was being so emotional in front of his friend, and then he thought about how other people around him would react around _their_ friends.

 

_JJ cried to Isabella, Yuuri cried on Victor. Sara cried on Mila that one time, Georgi cries all the fucking time...maybe that’s what friends do? Cry on each other?_

 

Yuri turned, burying his face against Otabek’s shirt before balling both of his fists in it, sobbing like a little kid. He knew what his grandfather had said, but he was still embarrassed, still upset with how he knew he must have disappointed him. He felt Otabek start in surprise before two warm arms encircled him.

 

“It’s okay, Yuri,” Otabek said soothingly, “You were incredible out there. Your grandfather’s proud of you and so am I.”

 

Yuri cried a little longer, makeup running down his cheeks as he wailed into Otabek’s shirt. It was a little more than embarrassing, but his sobs soon turned to hiccups and sniffles. After a while, Yuri summoned the courage to raise his head, seeing Otabek’s concerned face look down at him through blurred tears.

 

“Yura,” Otabek said soothingly, holding out a box of tissues, “Take one.”

 

Yuri sniffed, reaching out and blowing his nose a few times before dropping the used tissues in the trash. Otabek was busy wetting a washcloth. When Yuri was done, Otabek placed a hand under Yuri’s chin, wiping at the makeup stains on his cheeks.

 

“I’m not a kid,” Yuri grumbled sourly, but didn’t push Otabek away.

 

“I know that,” Otabek responded softly, gently wiping at Yuri’s eyes, “But you’re upset and I want to help you.”

 

Yuri dropped his forehead on Otabek’s chest, sighing a little as a gentle hand found its way to his hair.

 

“You’re the most amazing skater I’ve ever seen,” Otabek murmurs, Yuri smiling a little against him.

 

_So this is what it’s like to have a friend._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked that! I'm so excited I've reached this point because now everything is post canon which means I can do what I want! Please let me know what you thought of this, and I hope you enjoyed both of the chapters I uploaded today!


	10. as we wine and dine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why do you care so much about him?” JJ cried, looking close to tears, “He’s just a punk! And you...you...he put his fucking fingers in your mouth!”
> 
> Otabek flushed beet red, thrumming from anger and embarrassment. “Why do you care so much?” he fired back, “If I’m supposed to be over you, why do you care?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Which: Yuri and Otabek are oblivious, and things reach a boiling point with JJ.
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Thank you for all the lovely comments so far!

Otabek was certain this year’s banquet was _not_ going to be as exciting as last year’s.

 

In fact, as he headed down to the ballroom in the hotel, he could already see some of the skaters teasing Katsuki Yuuri about not being able to hold his liquor. Otabek felt a little bad for him, but Yuuri seemed in good spirits, probably having to do with the fact that he had won the silver medal and was currently holding hands with his coach.

 

JJ was there too, arm slung over Isabella’s shoulders, laughing raucously at a story Christophe was telling. Judging by everyone’s expressions, Otabek can only guess the story is something about Christophe’s sex life. Not something that he is particularily interested in hearing about.

 

Otabek gave a polite greeting to his coach. She was proud of him, he knew that, but she shared the sentiment that Otabek should have won bronze. It showed in her face as she steadily greeted sponsors and fellow coaches.

 

“Ugh would you two _please stop?_ You’re being _disgusting,”_ Yuri’s voice cut through the crowd and Otabek smiled, heading over to his friend’s side.

 

Noticing him, Yuri perked up straight away. “Beka! Thank god. Please, save me from these pigs and their _gross romantic, garbage!”_

 

The other skaters laughed while Yuri rolled his eyes, grumbling to Otabek about Yuuri and Victor. Otabek watched him with a smile, not realizing that JJ’s smile had fallen and he was watching him from a distance, looking a little sour.

 

The banquet passed pleasantly, Otabek chatting with Yuri most of the time, others coming to join them now and then. After about an hour had passed, the alcohol had been flowing freely and the conversations were becoming a little looser.

 

Neither Otabek or Yuri were drinking, but nearly everyone else from the senior division was, the laughter getting louder. Yuri was looking more and more like he wanted to disappear, but he was a hot commodity that evening, everyone wanting to speak with the gold medalist. Otabek was still a little sore from his loss, but he was extremely proud of Yuri, watching him get the attention that he definitely deserved.

 

When Yuri had been whisked off by Yakov to talk to a sponsor, Otabek took the opportunity to step back from the main crowd and catch a breath. He didn’t mind socializing, but being one of few sober people in a room full people getting drunk was not a way he usually liked to spend his time.

 

Taking some moments to himself to check his phone, Otabek was surprised when someone yanked his shoulder, spinning him around.

 

“Hey-” Otabek started before realizing with a shock that he was face-to-face with JJ.

 

“You ruined _everything,”_ JJ snarled, finger in Otabek’s face. He was clearly drunk; tie loosened and face red. Otabek hadn’t seen JJ drunk very often back in Canada, but he looked like he had one too many hours ago.

 

JJ continued to rant in a mixture of French and English, Otabek struggling to keep up. He saw JJ getting more and more worked up, a few heads beginning to turn their way.

 

“JJ, come on, let’s go out in the hall,” Otabek said quietly, gently pulling JJ out the adjacent door by the sleeve of his tux. In the relative privacy of the hallway, Otabek hoped JJ would calm enough not to make a scene.

 

It was quiet in the hall, the only sounds coming from inside the banquet room. Otabek looked at JJ nervously, his drunken figure half slouched against the wall.

 

“What’s going on?” Otabek asks softly in French. His French was rudimentary, but he hoped the use of it would calm the other enough to talk.

 

“You,” JJ snarled back, “You ruined _everything._ Why the hell’d you have to make your exhibition skate about me, huh? Why can’t you just _get out of my head?”_

 

Shocked thrummed through Otabek’s body at the words. His throat was dry as he took in JJ’s face; hair disheveled, hanging limply over his forehead as if he had run his hands through it too many times, flushed cheeks, forehead dotted with sweat.

 

“You’re drunk,” was what Otabek responded with, his words sounding closed off even to his own ears.

 

JJ looked at him for a moment before his eyes filled with something like hurt. “Fuck _you,”_ he seethed, “Fuck you, Otabek. You’re supposed to be _over_ me. You’re supposed to be done with me! I’m getting _married_ in a few months and you’re my _fucking best man!”_

 

Otabek felt an unsteady kind of sick feeling in his stomach and after a few moments, he registered that he was upset.

 

No, not upset.

 

Otabek was _pissed._

 

“I _am_ over you!” he said back in furiously fast French, “Did you watch my damn skate at _all?_ I’m over you, that was me saying _goodbye!”_

 

“THEN WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT SKATE WITH YURI?” JJ yells at the top of his lungs, pressing closer into Otabek’s space, tugging hard on his tie.

 

Otabek was stunned for a moment before he pushed JJ off of him, stumbling back a few steps.

 

“This isn’t about him!” Otabek cried red in the face, “This is about _us._ JJ, you’re my friend, but you’ve got to stop...stop _projecting_ all this on me!”

 

“How the fuck am I _projecting_ on you?” JJ yelled, “You...you fucking used my old choreography in your skate! And that song...damnit, that was _our_ song! How...how else am I supposed to take that? And then, fucking _fifteen minutes_ later you’re on the ice with Plisetsky practically _eye fucking_ each other, like a giant middle finger-”

 

“-Don’t talk about Yuri like that!” Otabek finally snapped, “Don’t, say whatever you want about me, but don’t you _dare_ bring him up like that!”

 

“Why do you care so much about him?” JJ cried, looking close to tears, “He’s just a punk! And you...you...he _put his fucking fingers in your mouth!”_

 

Otabek flushed beet red, thrumming from anger and embarrassment. “Why do you care so much?” he fired back, “If I’m supposed to be over you, _why do you care?”_

 

“BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT OVER ME!” JJ yelled, hitting his fist into the wall. Otabek was absolutely certain they were being overheard now, thankful that the argument wasn’t completely in English. He prayed silently that Yuri hadn’t overheard them yell his name.

 

“That’s bullshit,” Otabek grimaced, _“I am over you. I am done with this._ I don’t want to be in a relationship with you, you _hurt_ me.”

 

JJ looked wounded. “That...that wasn’t my fault! I thought you were over that!”

 

“Over you _abandoning_ me after a year for a girl you met a week before? I don’t think I’ll _ever_ be over that. You threw me out like I was nothing!” Otabek cried, balling his fists at his sides.

 

“So now you’re throwing _me_ out for Plisetsky?”

 

“You said you wanted me to be _over_ you! And he’s my friend!” Otabek cried in exasperation. JJ was rubbing his forehead as he looked like he was trying to calm his breathing.

 

“I don’t care!” JJ yelled back, “He shouldn’t have done that with you, touched you like that.”

 

“Who says?” Otabek shouted back, voice rising in volume to match JJ’s, “Who _cares?”_

 

“I DO!” JJ screamed before launching forward and planting his lips firmly on Otabek’s. Completely shocked, Otabek’s eyes remained open, arms out to the sides as JJ continued to kiss him. Overcome with adrenaline from the argument and the complete shock of JJ’s lips against his own, Otabek felt tears begin to roll down his cheeks.

 

“GET THE FUCK OFF OF HIM!” a voice bellowed suddenly as a blur _slammed_ into JJ and pushed him down onto the floor. Otabek stumbled back in shock, gasping loudly as air punched back into his lungs. He couldn’t bear to look up, feeling his tears coming on faster.

 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, you fucking _asshole._ Does he _look_ like he wanted you to kiss him?”

 

Otabek looked up through blurred eyes, seeing Yuri’s tense form standing over JJ, who had fallen on the floor and was rubbing his shoulder. Yuri’s fist was balled up like he was about to knock JJ’s lights out.

 

JJ looked up, face crumpling a bit as he noticed Otabek’s distraught state. Otabek wasn’t crying so much as wiping a few stray tears, but his breathing was erratic and he knew he looked a mess.

 

_I’m feeling too much right now. I just want to get out of here!_

 

“Apologize!” Yuri barked, kicking JJ’s shin, “Tell him you’re sorry!”

 

“What on _earth_ is going on out here?” Victor’s surprised voice broke the scene and Otabek flooded with embarrassment. He wanted to melt into the floor, to disappear, but the tears were falling harder now and his shoulders were shaking.

 

“This asshole had his hands all over Beka!” Yuri cried, sounding nearly as upset as Otabek felt, “He was _kissing_ him!”

 

Otabek wanted to say something to clarify the situation, but he was too embarrassed, ashamed, and shocked to speak. He felt someone come up next to him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

 

“Otabek,” Yuuri’s voice came through, “Are you alright?”

 

Otabek was dying of humiliation, but the sobs came harder anyway, face now buried in his hands. He could feel Yuuri rubbing his back, clearly at a loss for words, and through his sobs he heard Victor having a loud conversation with JJ.

 

“Beka!” Yuri cried, rushing over and grabbing onto Otabek’s arms, “Holy shit, Beka, are you okay?”

 

Otabek shook his head again, feeling a full-on crying fit coming on. He felt Yuri lead him over to a bench that was on the other side of the hallway. They sat down, Yuri speaking some soothing words in his ears. Through his gasping breaths, he registered the sound of Russian and he felt himself relax a little.

 

He raised his head, small sobs still coming out of his mouth, feeling exhausted and sick.

 

“I want to go to my room,” Otabek said in a small voice, unable to look Yuri in the eye. He saw Yuri nod at his request, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

 

“Katsudon, tell Victor to give that asshole a kick from me,” Yuri said, gently helping Otabek to his feet.

 

Yuuri began to speak. “Yuri, that’s not-”

 

“I’m taking him upstairs,” Yuri interrupted rudely, steering Otabek towards the elevators. By some miracle, they managed to avoid running into other skaters, or worse, the press, before making into an elevator, Yuri pressing the button for Otabek’s floor.

 

The ride was silent save for Otabek’s whimpers, Yuri clutching his arm in a firm grasp.

 

“Yuri...your sponsors and fans are all downstairs,” Otabek mumbled, sniffing a bit.

 

Yuri arched an eyebrow, locking eyes with him. “Do you think I give a shit? You’re more important.”

 

Otabek couldn’t think of a response to that, allowing Yuri to take control, leading him through the doors as the elevator stopped. They walked quietly, Yuri fishing in Otabek’s pocket for his key card.

 

 _This is embarrassing. I feel like a little kid._ _It’s nice, though...not worrying…_

 

Yuri swiped the keycard through the door, leading them in and gently helping Otabek sit on the bed. Otabek ran a shaky hand through his hair, breathing unsteadily as Yuri stared at him for a minute.

 

“I’m taking off my shoes,” Yuri said casually, “Oh, also I’m staying here tonight. Got extra pajamas?”

 

“Suitcase,” Otabek nodded, pointing to the corner. Yuri went over to grab a few things to wear, tossing over some things to Otabek a little haphazardly, a pair of pajama pants landing on his shoulder while a shirt landed on the floor.

 

“Change, and then we’re gonna relax,” Yuri ordered, sounding confident, but looking a little unsure, “If...you want.”

 

Otabek nodded. “That sounds good.”

 

They both changed into their sleeping clothes, Otabek still feeling a little raw from the fight and his emotional outburst. While Yuri was in the bathroom brushing his teeth, Otabek curled up on his side, ignoring his phone as it buzzed on the nightstand.

 

When Yuri exited the bathroom, his face fell a little when he saw Otabek looking so down. He sighed, seemingly making a decision as he made his way over to the bed, crawling up next to him on the bed.

 

“You okay, Beka?” Yuri asked quietly.

 

Otabek nodded rolling over so he was eye-to-eye with Yuri.

 

“Thanks for…” he trailed off, unsure how to word it.

 

“Shoving that asshole off of you?” Yuri asked, smirking. Otabek nodded, shame bubbling inside of him as he realized Yuri didn’t know the truth behind his and JJ’s history.

 

_I can’t tell him now. I can’t even get two words out right now._

 

Otabek sensed Yuri was waiting for him to say something, but he was unable to voice anything, too afraid that he’d begin to cry again. Yuri seemed to take his silence as a plea for help, and Otabek soon found himself wrapped in a cautious, but warm, embrace.

 

“I cried on you after my skate,” Yuri mumbled, “You can...you know, whatever you need.”

 

Otabek heard the caring undertone in Yuri’s words and exhaled shakily. He was more calm now, but the fight had still shaken him, dislodging something in his emotions that he had kept buried for months. Without speaking, Otabek pushed forward, tucking his face against Yuri’s shirt.

 

“I didn’t want him to kiss me,” he confessed silently, unable to further expand.

 

“I know,” Yuri responded, a little breathlessly. Otabek wondered why for a moment, until he felt a gentle head rest in his hair.

 

_That feels nice. I haven’t had someone hold me like this in a while. I can’t believe my friendship with him is already this natural. I knew we were alike._

 

“You really are like a soldier,” Otabek mumbled, feeling a little drowsy, “Or a knight.”

 

“It’s nice that you think so,” Yuri mumbled, “No one else does.”

 

Otabek shifted, relaxing bit by bit as Yuri threaded his hands through his hair. “Then they’re wrong.”

 

The rest of the night was spent in comfortable silence, Yuri eventually leaning over and turning out the light, both of them still snuggled together.

 

It occurred to Otabek much, _much_ later, that this was perhaps _not_ what friends were supposed to do to comfort each other. But everything with Yuri felt so comfortable, so _natural._

 

_Why fight it?_

 

The next morning, Otabek woke up first, yawning a bit. He blinked a couple of times before turning and seeing that Yuri was still asleep, curled into a small ball, head using Otabek’s arm as a pillow. It was numb and Otabek winced a bit, but he didn’t dare move, not wanting to wake him.

 

Next to him on the dresser, his phone vibrated. There were several missed calls from his coach, a few unknown numbers, and JJ. Otabek figured it had to do with his untimely disappearance from the banquet last night. He hoped that Victor and Yuuri had been able to do some damage control for him and Yuri.

 

Scanning his texts, he found a litany of them from JJ. Ignoring most of them, he scrolled to the most recent one.

 

 **JJ:** im sorry

 

Otabek sighed, before responding.

 

 **Otabek** : I know.

 

He put the phone down, surprised when it vibrated again almost immediately.

 

 **JJ:** i told bella what happened

 **JJ:** i made her cry too if that makes you feel better

 **Otabek:** Of course it doesn’t.

 **JJ:** i really am sorry

 

Otabek sighed, putting his phone facedown on the nightstand, not wanting to talk anymore. Instead, he dropped his head back on the pillow, focusing instead on the peaceful atmosphere he was sharing with his friend.

 

_I should be embarrassed that I cried in front of Yuri last night, but...it feels like we’re even, now?_

_Have I ever been this emotional with any of my friends before? I’m not sure._

 

Otabek turned to look at the sleeping face of his friend and he felt something tug at his heart. He may not have known Yuri as a close friend for very long, but he was _safe._ He had always known that he and Yuri were alike, but now more than ever he felt it. He knew Yuri was going to be a part of his life for a long, long time.

 

Secure in that knowledge, Otabek allowed his eyes to drift close, his last lingering thoughts of Yuri’s peaceful face, surrounding by messy waves of gold.

 

_I could get used to this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! Writing that fight hurt my soul a little.


	11. boy you got me helpless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I remember, too!” Victor called out, “You said your crush let you down at the Grand Prix and you pouted for weeks, I thought Yakov was going to lose his mind waiting for you to focus on skating again.”
> 
>  
> 
> _Stop talking, please for the love of god stop talking._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Thanks for the wonderful comments on the last chapter! We're back with Yuri here. If part of this chapter seems familiar, it's because I used part of a one-shot I wrote. I edited it and made it work for the context of this fic, because it just fit so well! I hope you enjoy!

The next morning, Yuri woke up to a foot in the face.

 

He groaned a little, before shifting and realizing he was essentially laying sideways, Otabek sprawled out like a starfish next to him. He snorted a little, gently pushing Otabek’s foot off of him and smirking as he groaned in his sleep. Yuri supposed it was perhaps odd that they shared a bed, given the fact that they barely knew each other, but it felt comfortable.

 

He almost forgot for a moment that he had never shared a bed with someone before. Briefly wondering if Otabek had, he moved his body down to curl up against Otabek’s back, letting himself fall back asleep.

 

The next time Yuri awoke it was to a loud banging on the door. Yawning sleepily, he rolled off the bed, Otabek beginning to stir as well. Rubbing his bleary eyes, he went over and opened the door to his hotel room.

 

“What?” he asked bluntly, still waking up. A sharp gasp caused him to look up and see both Yuuri and Victor staring into the room at Otabek with identical expressions of surprise.

 

“He stayed the night?” Victor hissed, crossing his arms and looking down at Yuri with a frown.

 

Yuri rolled his eyes. “So what? He was upset. What’s the big deal?”

 

Victor made a displeased sound before Yuuri put a gentle hand on his arm, effectively quieting him.

 

“Victor,” he said, not unkindly, “It’s obvious nothing happened. Relax. Yuri, our flight leaves soon. Are you packed?”

 

“Kinda,” Yuri shrugged, waking up a little more as he realized what Victor had implied. “Hey, don’t be gross, old man!”

 

“Yuri, we’re just looking out for you-”

 

“Oh my god, get _out,”_ Yuri interrupted, shutting the door in their face and walking back to the bed, flopping dramatically on his back.

 

Otabek rolled over, smiling weakly. “Hey,” he mumbled.

 

“Hey,” Yuri responded, shifting so his legs were thrown over Otabek’s. “I’ve gotta pack. This sucks, I don’t want to leave.”

 

“Neither do I,” Otabek said, looking at him a little sadly.

 

Yuri was confused for a brief moment before he realized that this was _goodbye._ In the whirlwind of the past few days, he had completely forgotten that he and Otabek lived in completely separate countries and wouldn’t be seeing each other for months, at least.

 

“Hey, it won’t be so bad,” Yuri said casually, “I mean, you’ve got my number and Skype and Twitter and stuff, so…”

 

Otabek smiled, a little more brightly. “Yeah. But who’s going to cuddle with me if I have an emotional breakdown again?”

 

The question was worded with something like humor, but Yuri heard the undertone and realized that Otabek was _embarrassed._

 

“It’s not your fault that asshole kissed you. He was probably drunk off his ass and thought you were somebody else or something.”

 

“Yuri, it wasn’t quite like that-”

 

The sound of Yuri’s phone going off cut off Otabek, both of them sighing a little.

 

“It’s Yakov,” Yuri grumbled, checking the text. “Shit, I’ve really gotta pack. We have to be at the airport in an hour.”

 

Otabek nodded and the two of them chatted casually, Otabek helping Yuri pack his things. When the room was clean and everything put away, Otabek looked down, blushing a bit.

 

“I’m still wearing your clothes,” he said, “And I think you may have packed mine.”

 

Yuri’s heart thudded for reasons he couldn’t quite explain at that thought.

 

“Oh well,” he shrugged, “Guess you’ll have to win them back from me at the next competition after I beat you.”

 

Otabek grinned, “Not if I beat you first.”

 

They stood there smiling at one another for a moment before Yuri thought _fuck it_ , and he threw his arms around Otabek, a little embarrassed, but mostly relishing the hug.

 

It was the calmest he’d felt in weeks.

 

“See you soon?” Otabek inquired after they pulled away, “On Skype, I mean.”

 

“Definitely,” Yuri grinned as they headed out the door. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy, Altin.”

 

If Yuri wore Otabek’s sweatshirt on the flight home, he wasn’t admitting it to anybody.

 

Weeks passed, the off-season a chance for everyone to unwind. Victor and Yuuri had eloped for a few weeks, promising a big wedding when the Olympics were over, but until then, they wanted a private celebration. Mila went off visiting Sara, which meant Yuri had been alone. Victor and Yuuri had come back a couple of days before, Yuuri cheerfully moving in with Victor. Yuri had been trying his best to avoid them.

 

He got to spend time with his cat and his grandfather, which was a nice break from the stressful season that he had. Days were spent either at the rink, ballet studio, or doing homework. Not much of a break for him, but Yuri had a lot of schoolwork to catch up on given how he had basically ignored his studies the last few months.

 

_It’s not fair. Everyone else gets a break, but I’m stuck doing four hours of ballet a day plus all this homework and skating. This is supposed to be the off season!_

 

After a long practice at the rink trying out some new jumps, Yuri was finishing up on some algebra homework on a bench in between his skating. He grumbled, scribbling down some notes in his maths book when his phone buzzed. He dropped his pencil, a smile on his face when he saw who it was from.

 

 **Beka:** Hey, check this out! Looks cool, right?

 

Yuri clicked on the link, grinning a little as he saw it was a compilation of all of his best jumps from the previous season on YouTube. He noticed it was from a private account and that piqued his curiosity.

 

 **Yuri:** where did you find this?

 **Beka:** I made it. To help me practice.

 

Yuri blushed, unsure of why he was so affected by that comment. Otabek, studying _him?_ Yuri wasn’t afflicted with false vanity, he _knew_ he was good, but something about having his friend study his jumps...it made him feel good.

 

 **Beka:** Sorry is that weird?

 **Yuri:** no it’s cool. I mean it’s understandable you’d want to learn from the best ;););)

 **Beka** : Very funny, Yura.

 **Yuri:** Skype later tonight? I’m free in like three hours (homework sucks you’re lucky you graduated already)

 **Beka** : Sounds good (and yeah, no sympathy there, I paid my dues)

 

Yuri grins, the conversation making him feel lighter as he finished off the last of his homework, shoving it in his bag. He was was exhausted, sore, and frustrated from the practice, both due to the fact that he was _stuck_ in the rink while many of his rinkmates had left hours before, waving him hasty goodbyes. It was frustrating that he was the only one who still had to balance his schoolwork with a tutor alongside his practice. It made his hours ridiculous and left little time for socializing. Otabek’s texts helped to make it bearable, but he wished he could have more time to himself, too. He packed up his things, resolved for the walk back to his grandfather’s apartment.

 

Heading towards the locker room, he was surprised to hear quiet conversation and laughing from one of the unused rooms off the side of the rink. Heading over, he pushed the door open gently and his mouth fell open at the sight of his friends, clearly in various states of intoxication.

 

“Yurio!” Victor slurred cheerfully, an arm slung around Yuuri’s shoulders, “Yurio, come play with us!”

 

Mila and Georgi were there as well, the four of them looking as if they were having the world’s best time. Yuri went from surprised, to amused, to furious in a matter of moments.

 

“Is this what you assholes do all day when I’m stuck doing homework?” Yuri grumbled, dropping his bag on the floor and heading over to sit by Mila.

 

“Only sometimes,” Mila chimed in, sounding unsteady himself, “Just when Yakov gives us a break.”

 

 _Oh my god, they’re fucking wasted. This is hilarious,_ Yuri thought as he took a seat next to Mila. They were obviously in the throes of some kind of drinking game and Yuri leaned back to watch.

 

“Don’t give Yurio alcohol!” Mila said, flinging an arm over his shoulder, “He’s too young, it won’t agree with him.”

 

Yuri _tched_ and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in front of him. He had no desire to drink, but he hated when people pointed out that he was too young to do something.

 

_That’s why I snuck into a club to see Beka DJ and I did my exhibition skate. Were none of you watching?_

 

“Alright, here’s some water so he can at least pretend to play,” Georgi said, handing Yuri a glass. Yuri rolled his eyes again, but took the glass without speaking. After a few moments of casual talking and laughing, Victor stood up, swaying a little.

 

“Let’s continue!” he called out, like an overexcited cruise director, “Hmm, Mila I think it’s your turn!”

 

“Okay,” Mila said, “Hm, Yuuri, truth or dare?”

 

_Truth or dare? Are they fucking serious?_

 

“Truth,” Yuuri said, a kind of unsteady smile on his face.

 

“Hmmm….okay, who was your first crush?” she asked, “BEFORE Victor, I mean.”

 

Yuuri got a kind of thoughtful look on his face before he shrugged. “No one, really. It’s always been him.”

 

_Fucking gross._

 

Victor cooed, sitting back down and kissing Yuuri sweetly, which made Yuri’s stomach roll. He hated watching them be so affectionate, it was infuriating.

 

“Boring!” Mila called, “Victor, it’s your turn.”

 

Victor looked around the room, before landing on Yuri with a weird smile.

 

_Stop looking at me that way, asshole._

 

“Yurio! Your turn. Truth or dare?” Victor asked, beaming.

 

“Truth,” Yuri said absentmindedly. He had no desire to take a sober dare from his drunk friends.

 

Victor looked surprised, as if he wasn’t expecting that. “Ah, alright then. Who was _your_ first crush?”

 

_Fucking hell._

 

“Hey, you can’t take my question!” Mila pouted, leaning against Yuri, before a strange look crossed her face. “But…yeah, come to think of it, I remember that, actually. You were mopey for weeks after the Junior championships. Little Yurachka’s first heartbreak?”

 

_Shit, shit, shit! Okay, just lie. Lie Yuri!_

 

“That’s none of your business,” Yuri scowled, heat flushing his cheeks.

 

“I remember, too!” Victor called out, “You said your crush let you down at the Grand Prix and you pouted for weeks, I thought Yakov was going to lose his mind waiting for you to focus on skating again.”

 

_Stop talking, please for the love of god stop talking._

 

Georgi was looking at him thoughtfully now. “Heartbreak? Oh, Yuri, I wish I had known. I would have talked you through it. Although, I can’t really see any of the other junior competitors as having let you down…”

 

Yuri was tomato red now, wanting desperately to escape, to be literally anywhere else as he tried desperately not to look over at Yuuri and Victor. It had taken him the past year to get over his crush on Yuuri, and he definitely didn’t want it out in the open now that it was behind him. Hell, he hadn’t even told Otabek about his crush, and Yuri had told him things he had never told anyone else before. It was just too embarrassing.

 

“Yurio, are you alright?” Yuuri asked softly, and that was enough to break Yuri’s last piece of resolve.

 

“Leave me alone,” he snarled, “Just stop pushing, would you? It’s none of your business, it’s not any of your business. It happened, it’s done.”

 

_It’s over. I got over it ages ago._

 

He noticed their cheerful smiles had diminished and were all look at him in poorly veiled concern. Yuuri was hanging off Victor’s shoulder, looking upset, while Victor, Mila, and Georgi were all giving him those sincere worried expressions that Yuri hated so much.

 

“It doesn’t sound like you’re over it,” Mila said softly, “Come on, little bro, spill.”

 

_I don’t want to talk about it! I’m already so embarrassed. And I can’t keep it in much longer. Ugh, Katsudon, stop looking at me like that!_

 

“It was more than a crush?” Victor teased softly, “A lover, perhaps?”

 

Yuri’s face burned and he was sure he was bright red by now. Ignoring the question, he stood and went to grab his bag, pointedly not looking at them and praying they would forget all of this in the morning. He didn’t have feelings for Yuuri anymore, but having it dredged up was very uncomfortable.

 

“Yurio, wait,” Yuuri’s soft voice came from behind him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Are you alright?”

 

Yuri wanted to shove Yuuri’s hand off, but he couldn’t make himself move. He was beyond humiliated and wanted nothing more to do with any of them.

 

_Fuck, Katsudon, stop! This is so embarrassing and Mila’s going to figure this out in about five seconds if she catches me looking at you…_

 

“Oh my god,” Mila whispered as if on cue, “Oh, Yuri…”

 

“What?” Victor asked, “What is it?”

 

Yuri brushed off Yuuri’s hand and turned towards them, a fierce kind of of anger pulsing through him.

 

“Leave me alone,” he snarled, “Go back to your lame ass game.” He was about to cross the threshold of the room when Victor had to open his big mouth.

 

“Yurio, if it was Yuuri, just say so! You can still play with us and I don’t blame you for having a crush on him! Right, Yuuri?”

 

_What…oh my god, Victor...you...you fucking, drunken, asshole!_

 

To his horror and complete embarrassment, Yuri felt tears stinging in his eyes. He said nothing, ignoring the calls for him to come back as he broke into a run, barging through the now-empty rink and out into the night. The tears came fast, sobs choking him as he ran home.

 

When he reached his grandfather’s apartment, Yuri raced up the stairs, opening the door, barely hearing his grandfather’s confused greeting before he threw himself into his arms, crying on his shoulder.

 

“Dedushka,” he sobbed, “I’m such an idiot.”

 

God, having feelings _sucked._

 

After a few minutes of sobbing, his grandfather began to get the whole story out of him, leading him over to the couch. Yuri explained through choked sobs the whole embarrassing ordeal.

 

“Yurachka, it can’t be that bad,” his grandfather soothed, sitting down next to him, “Didn’t you say it was just a silly game?”

 

Yuri hastily rubbed at his eyes again, ashamed at crying in front of his grandfather, ashamed at the whole situation.

 

“Yeah,” he said softly, “But dedushka, they…they _know_. I’ve never been so humiliated in my entire life.”

 

His grandfather hummed quietly, dropping an arm around Yuri’s shoulders. In front of them on the table, his phone was buzzing almost consistently, texts and calls coming in every few seconds.

 

“Your friends are worried about you,” his grandfather murmured.

 

Yuri’s eyes narrowed as he huffed. “They’re all assholes.”

 

“Yurachka, don’t be unkind.”

 

“Sorry, dedushka.”

 

His grandfather continued to hold him as Yuri ignored the calls on his cell. It was hard to feel as embarrassed when he was leaning on his grandfather. Eventually, he decided he wanted to talk a little more.

 

“Grandpa…they all know. They know I used to…have a crush on him. It’s humiliating,” Yuri moaned, “And what will Beka say?”

 

“Hush,” his grandfather said, kissing the top of Yuri’s head, “Yurachka, it is alright to feel this way. Love is normal, childhood crushes happen. I’m sure your friends will understand. And Otabek…he’s your best friend, isn’t he? I’m sure he likes you the way you are.”

 

Yuri nodded, dropping his head on his grandfather’s shoulder. “Yeah. I just…Grandpa, I’m tired of feeling like a kid around them. I…I don’t want to have to prove myself all the time.”

 

“Yura, you don’t have to prove anything. Your friends will love you for exactly who you are, just like I do,” he soothed, holding Yuri close, “And I think it would be good for you to talk to your friend Yuuri. Getting it off your chest might make you feel better. You can start by answering all of those texts.”

 

Yuri blushed, but he nodded, knowing his grandfather was right. But before he reached for his phone, he leaned back on his shoulder, wanting to sit in comfort for a little while. After a few quiet minutes with his grandfather, Yuri summoned the courage to look at his phone. He was surprised to see that the majority of the texts weren’t from Victor, Mila, or Yuuri, but from Otabek.

 

 **Beka:** Yuri are you alright? I got a text from Mila saying something happened and you’re upset. If you still want to Skype I’m here.

 **Yuri:** i’m so embarrassed beka just kill me

 **Beka:** Yura.

 **Yuri:** ok, ok, i’ll skype you. Dont use that tone with me!

 **Beka:** I’m texting you. I don’t have a tone.

 **Yuri:** i KNOW you. You definitely have a tone.

 

Yuri headed to his bedroom setting up the Skype call on the computer. Ringing Otabek, he was pleased when he picked up rather quickly, his pixilated face coming into view, sitting cross-legged on what Yuri had come to recognize as his bed.

 

“Yura, what’s going on?” Otabek asked, concerned, “You look like you’ve been crying.”

 

_Fuck, he can see right through me. That isn’t fair._

 

“Yeah, I…” he paused, blushing hard. “It was stupid. Victor, Katsudon, Mila, and Georgi, they were playing this stupid drinking game and made me sit and watch and Victor had to let slip about an old crush I had.”

 

Otabek winced. “Ouch. A crush on who?”

 

“Yuuri,” Yuri admitted in an impossibly small voice. It was strange to him how admitting this to Otabek didn’t seem embarrassing at all. He would have _died_ of embarrassment if this had been anyone else, but Otabek and his grandfather were different. They were _safe._

 

“Katsuki?” Otabek grinned. “That’s kind of cute. When you were a kid, right?”

 

Yuri nodded. “Yeah, I met him at my first international competition and then the next year I kicked him and yelled in his face in a bathroom. How romantic, right?”

 

Otabek snorted, looking amused. “That’s very _you._ And at least you had taste, there are _way_ worse people to have your first crush on.”

 

“Yeah, I guess it could be worse,” Yuri laughed, rolling on his stomach. “I mean, at least it wasn’t fucking _JJ_ or some shit.”

 

Otabek went quiet, looking down at his own bedspread.

 

_Shit, he looks nervous. Did JJ kissing him mess him up that bad? I’ve gotta murder that maple syrup loving asshole._

 

“Sorry,” Yuri volunteered, “I know bringing him up upsets you. Sorry.”

 

Otabek smiled. “It’s okay, it’s just…I...should probably tell you…”

 

“YURACHKA!” his grandfather called, “DINNER!”

 

Yuri groaned. “Sorry, Beka. My grandfather’s calling. Text you tomorrow?”

 

“Sure,” Otabek said. “And Yuri...call the other Yuuri, okay? Talk it out.”

 

“I will,” Yuri sighed. “Night, Beka.”

 

“Night, Yura.”

 

The next day at the rink, Yuri managed to summon the courage to skate up to Yuuri and fumble out the words, “Canwetalkplease?” Yuuri smiled gently, gesturing towards the side of the rink, Yuri noticing that happily the others were staying away.

 

“So, um…” Yuri started, blushing, “I mean, don’t let it go to your head, okay? I was a kid, it was a dumb crush.”

 

Yuuri was still smiling gently. “It was after your first international competition, right? I remember meeting you. You and your bowl cut.”

 

Yuri blushed, brushing back his long hair self-consciously. “Mila made me get that,” he grumbled, “Stupid hag.”

 

Yuuri was still smiling, putting a gentle hand on Yuri’s shoulder. “I’m flattered, really. But you’ve, um...moved on, right?”

 

“Of course I have!” Yuri spat, scandalized, “Jesus fuck, did you think I still _liked_ you? Ugh, don’t be disgusting. I was a preteen with horrible taste in men.”

 

Yuuri was laughing now, looking a little relieved. “Oh, so now you have _good_ taste in men?”

 

“Fuck off, Katsudon,” Yuri grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. “That’s none of your business.”

 

“HEY, YURIO!” Victor called from across the rink, causing both of them to look up. “YUURI AND I BOTH THINK YOU AND OTABEK MAKE A LOVELY COUPLE!”

 

“Victor, I’m going to fucking _kill you!”_ Yuri spat, leaping off the bench and chasing Victor around the rink. Mila caught him first, holding Yuri above her head while he spat obscenities at her. Yuuri and Victor were laughing and after a few minutes of it, Yuri started laughing too, Mila dropping him down into a hug, her chin resting on his head.

 

“What are you _doing?”_ Yakov called out, sounding as if he had aged ten years in the span of an hour. “Get back _on the ice.”_

 

The four of them scattered, getting their gear on and setting up for a day of practice. Yuri felt something warm inside him, a release of the tension he had been carrying around for the better part of two years.

 

 _It felt good to get that off my chest,_ he thought while he laced up his skates, _But what was that crack about Otabek and I being a good couple? I mean, we’re just...friends._

 

_Right?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Yakov. He's going to lose all his hair.


	12. i'm about to change your life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek frowned in concern, pushing down his anger at the nameless guy who had upset him, and gesturing Yuri into the room. The door closed, Yuri walking over to sit on the bed. He seemed upset, and Otabek waited patiently for him to begin talking.
> 
> “That was my first kiss,” Yuri said softly, playing with a stray thread on his cuff. Otabek swallowed hard, not entirely sure what to say. Despite his rocky history with JJ, he didn’t regret that his first kiss had been with him. It had been exciting and sweet, the promise of something more, and Yuri would never get that. It made Otabek a little sad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Olympics are here and Otabek has a moment of self discovery.

The next time they saw each other, it was nearly four months later.

 

The Olympics had arrived and Otabek and Yuri had both made it along with Yuuri, Victor, JJ, and a few others Otabek vaguely remembered from his past competitions. He still hadn’t talked to JJ since their disastrous falling out in Barcelona, focusing mainly on preparing for the Olympics.

 

Now in Pyeongchang after the longest flight of his life, Otabek was waiting in his hotel room, his coach having given him the day off to settle in. Yuri had arrived some hours before and had texted miserably that he was stuck in the airport.

 

**Yura:** beka this sucks all the russian team’s shit is mixed up

**Otabek:** How? Don’t you...oh, don’t tell me you all have matching team luggage.

**Yura:** its such bullshit its gonna take hours to sort through this mess. I think im gonna have to get lunch here, sry but im starving

**Otabek:** It’s okay, I’ll be here. We can grab dinner if you want.

**Yura:** sounds good ill text u when we finally figured this mess out

 

Otabek smiled wryly, thinking of Yuri stubbornly waiting at the airport for his luggage. He was suddenly glad he wasn’t anyone Yuri was irritated with, knowing how grouchy he could become. Otabek busied himself by sorting through his luggage in his hotel room, thinking excitedly of the opening ceremony to come the next night. 

 

Half an hour or so passed before Otabek’s phone buzzed again.

 

**Yura:** beka omg save me

**Otabek:** ?

**Yura:** this hockey dude (i cant even remember his name rn) asked me to eat lunch w/him and i am and i think he thinks its a date what do i do

**Yura:** you gotta help me out he’s just fucking staring at me while he eats french fries and its fucking weird

 

Otabek felt a clenching in his chest, like all the air had been sucked from his lungs. Placing the confusing sensation aside for a moment, he tried to think of how best to respond to Yuri.

 

**Otabek:** Do you want it to be a date?

**Yura:** NO did you see me say i dont even remember his name?? What the fuck beka

**Otabek:** Do you need an out? An excuse?

 

Otabek waited for a few minutes, beginning to get a bit concerned when Yuri didn’t respond. After about fifteen minutes had passed, he decided to text again.

 

**Otabek:** Yura?

**Yura:** Im here. Can i come to your room after i check in? I need to talk. Heading to the hotel now

**Otabek:** Of course. I’m in room 236.

 

Otabek put the phone down, trying to swallow his nerves. Unable to explain exactly what was causing him to feel the way he did, he sat on the edge of the bed trying to sort through his feelings. The thought of Yuri with someone else made his insides twist violently. 

 

He shot up suddenly with the force of a realization, threading a hand into his hair.

 

_ Oh my god. _

_ Okay, just breathe, Otabek. _

_ Okay. _

_ Okay, so I like him. _

_ Shit. _

 

Otabek’s mind raced as he thought of his feelings towards Yuri. His thoughts jumped from thinking of JJ and the disastrous end to that relationship, to the comfortable bond he felt with Yuri. 

 

_ JJ left me when we were in a perfectly good place for someone else. Why wouldn’t Yuri do the same? _

 

Groaning, Otabek buried his face in his hands and tried not to think too much about his insecurities.

 

_ He’d probably think I was such a loser. Well, maybe not, but he definitely won’t want to date me, I should put this aside. Besides, he sounded upset through those texts. Fuck, I can’t let this distract me! I’m at the Olympics. Shit. _

 

Otabek continued to wallow in panic and pity until he heard a soft knock on the door. Almost forgetting Yuri was on his way, Otabek stood, legs shaking with nervous excitement as he opened the door. Immediately, he felt two arms wrap around his waist.

 

“I missed you,” Yuri sighed, sounding exhausted, but pleased. Otabek returned the hug, Yuri’s touch beginning to overwhelm him. 

 

“I missed you too,” Otabek murmured, “I’m sorry you got dragged into that lunch you didn’t want.”

 

“Beka it was  _ shit. _ He kissed me and it was  _ disgusting. _ I understand how you felt now, after JJ…”

 

_ Oh, so that’s what’s bothering him. Wait, he  _ **_kissed_ ** _ Yuri? Who was this asshole? _

 

Otabek frowned in concern, pushing down his anger at the nameless guy who had upset him, and gesturing Yuri into the room. The door closed, Yuri walking over to sit on the bed. He seemed upset, and Otabek waited patiently for him to begin talking.

 

“That was my first kiss,” Yuri said softly, playing with a stray thread on his cuff. Otabek swallowed hard, not entirely sure what to say. Despite his rocky history with JJ, he didn’t regret that his first kiss had been with him. It had been exciting and sweet, the promise of something  _ more,  _ and Yuri would never get that. It made Otabek a little sad.

 

“I’m sorry,” Otabek murmured, sitting down next to him, unsure of what else to say. Yuri dropped his head on Otabek’s shoulder, making his heart skip a beat.

 

_ Fuck. I’m so fucked. _

 

“Was your’s that shitty?” Yuri grumbled.

 

“My what?”

 

“Your first kiss.”

 

Otabek blushed, thinking of locker rooms and facepaint, skating races and boisterous laughter.

 

“No,” he said eventually, “I was lucky. Mine...mine started something. Something I had wanted for a while. Someone...I used to date.”

 

Yuri looked up, eyes full of curiosity. “You? Seriously? I can’t imagine you dating anyone, Beka. Not when you were younger.”

 

Otabek smiled a little, in spite of his raging emotions. “I know, I was pretty shy. But it worked, for a while, anyway.”

 

His face fell as he remembered the day JJ had left. Otabek supposed something must have shown on his face, because Yuri stopped asking questions. 

 

The rest of their afternoon was spent in relative calm and quiet. Both of their coaches had given them the afternoon to rest, early warmups scheduled for the next day. Halfway through the afternoon, Yuri disappeared and came back to the room shortly after with his suitcase and all of his things, declaring that he was sharing with Otabek while he was there.

 

They ordered in room service, neither of them wanting to face other skaters the night before their first warm up on Olympic ice. Otabek knew he and Yuri would obviously be competing against each other later in the week, but it wasn’t important to him now.

 

_ Nothing _ was as important as the two of them, sharing space and peace.

 

Otabek tried to quash his newly discovered feelings, but every few minutes he would look over at Yuri, who was sprawled out and relaxed. They were both on Otabek’s bed, the tv playing softly in the background and empty plates from room service shoved on the dresser. Yuri had been playing with his phone while Otabek read, and Otabek blushed each time he caught a glimpse of Yuri out of the corner of his eye.

 

Things went on much the same way until Yuri sighed from his side of the bed in boredom, rolling over eventually and playing with the strings on Otabek’s hoodie. Having Yuri so close made his heart pound and Otabek tried his best not to let Yuri see how nervous he was. 

 

“So you never told me,” Yuri began, winding the strings of the hoodie around his fingers and letting them go again.

 

Otabek turned towards Yuri’s, confusion etched in his face. “Told you what?”

 

“About your boyfriend,” Yuri said, “Or girlfriend, or whatever. You mentioned you saw someone, before.”

 

_ Shit, I’m not ready to talk about this. _

 

“Yeah,” Otabek murmured, trying his best not to sound nervous. “For about a year, when I was in Canada. It...was my first, and only relationship.”

 

Yuri was looking at him expectantly and Otabek sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

 

“It’s kind of tough to talk about,” he said quietly, “It...didn’t end well.”

 

Yuri looked more curious, rolling over on his stomach to face him. The shift in position meant Yuri was a lot closer to him, and Otabek felt his heart hammer with nerves. The close proximity wasn’t helping him feel any more comfortable talking about his past with JJ.

 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Yuri mumbled, “But you know, I’m...here for you, or whatever.”

 

Otabek smiled a little at Yuri’s attempt to be kind and understanding, trying not to suck in a deep breath when Yuri turned over on his back, resting his head on Otabek’s stomach as he looked at the ceiling. Otabek tried his best not to look at Yuri’s face, knowing he’d lose his nerve if he did.

 

“It’s just...we dated for almost a year,” Otabek began softly, realizing he hadn’t ever really  _ talked _ about this before.

 

“Did you break it off, or did they?” Yuri asked curiously.

 

Otabek swallowed hard, insecurity rising in him. He had tried to suppress how insecure he felt about being dumped by JJ, but with his new  _ feelings _ for Yuri arising...they were coming up full force.

 

“He did,” Otabek said in an impossibly small voice, “He...met someone else. We were in a really good place, but he...dumped me for them anyway.”

 

“Fuck,” Yuri responded, “That’s messed up.”

 

_ If only you knew. I can’t tell him it was JJ, he’ll hate JJ even  _ **_more_ ** _ and things will just be awkward between all of his. But he’s got to find out eventually, though, if I keep it a secret, he’ll hate  _ **_me_ ** _...but now doesn’t feel like the right time. _

 

Otabek sighed. “Thanks. I’m over him, but it kind of...messed me up, you know? I just...the day he dumped me, he told me he was still in love with me. It kind of makes me feel like…”

 

_ Like I’m not good enough. _

 

“Like what?” Yuri asked, sounding like he was a little upset.

 

Otabek was embarrassed to find that he was beginning to get emotional.

 

“Kind of like...like I’m not good enough, I guess? I don’t have feelings for him at  _ all _ anymore, but I mean, if he  _ loved _ me and still left, then…”

 

_ Then what’s the point? I know I’m not good enough for you. _

 

“Shut the hell up,” Yuri growled, sitting up and staring down at him. “You’re perfect, okay? You’re...you’re my best friend and that guy was fucking messed up. It’s his loss.”

 

Otabek nodded, afraid that if he spoke out loud, he would cry. Emotion must have shown on his face, because Yuri dropped his weight on top of him, hugging him close as his buried his face into Otabek’s hair.

 

_ Oh my god, he’s going to kill me. _

 

“You’ve got me, okay?” Yuri grumbled in Otabek’s ear, “No more of this sad shit. We’re Olympians!”

 

Otabek smiled against Yuri’s hair, wrapping his arms around Yuri’s back. After Yuri settled on his chest, Otabek was surprised to realize how exhausted and drained he felt from even the briefest discussion of his feelings. 

 

“We skate tomorrow,” Yuri said, mumbling into Otabek’s collar, “At the  _ Olympics.” _

 

Otabek smiled as Yuri settled himself down next to him, flopping over on his back. Otabek’s hand absentmindedly strayed through Yuri’s hair, his heart racing at the feeling of closeness.

 

“Yeah,” he responded, “Hey...Yuri?”

 

“What’s up?”

 

“Do you think...do you think it’s weird?” Otabek blushed furiously, “That we’re so close, I mean. I...I’ve never been like this, with someone else.”

 

Yuri’s brow furrowed in confusion as he glanced at Otabek looking slightly offended. “No? I mean...that’s just how we are. You’re my human body pillow and I cry on you after free skates. It’s who we are.”

 

Otabek smiled at that, unable to deny it.

 

_ That’s who we are. _

 

“Beka…” Yuri asked softly, sounding uncharacteristically unsure and getting Otabek’s attention. He trailed off before biting his lip nervously, looking down at the bedspread.

 

Otabek continued to brush his hand through Yuri’s hair, waiting for Yuri to finish his question. His heart was pounding as he watched Yuri work through something in his head.

 

“Beka...I…” Yuri stammered, turning beet red, “Wouldyoukissme?”

 

_ What? _

 

Otabek’s jaw dropped as he looked down at Yuri, startled at the request.

 

“Just a little?” Yuri begged, “I want...I don’t want to think back to my first kiss and think of that douche. I just...want it to be with someone I trust.”

 

Otabek was fairly certain that he was going to  _ die. _

 

“Are you sure?” he asked softly, voice wavering a bit despite his resolve. He wasn’t sure if he could kiss Yuri without losing his mind and would it really be  _ right _ given he had feelings for him? Otabek didn’t know.

 

Yuri sat up, blushing even harder, but with conviction in his eyes. “Yeah, I am. I could never regret you.”

 

Otabek felt his heart pound at the words, sitting up so he and Yuri were shoulder-to-shoulder, Yuri looking down at the bed. Nerves fluttered inside of Otabek like butterflies as he turned Yuri’s face towards his own, pressing their foreheads together.

 

“You’re my best friend,” Yuri whispered, hands fisted loosely in the bed sheets. Otabek swallowed hard, nodding in agreement, unable to voice anything out loud as he pressed a soft kiss to Yuri’s cheek.

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Yuri growled, “I meant my lips, idiot.”

 

“I know,” Otabek whispered, “Are you sure?”

 

Yuri rolled his eyes, gripping the front of Otabek’s shirt. “You’re making this a big deal. Just kiss me!”

 

Otabek gently pulled Yuri’s hands away, intertwining their fingers. “I’m just trying to make sure this is nice for you.”

 

“It is,” Yuri mumbled, embarrassed. “Just kiss me Beka, come on.”

 

Otabek chuckled a little, leaning forward and pressing their lips together with the lightest contact. It was barely a brush, barely a  _ peck _ , but Yuri lingered against him for what seemed like forever, sighing a little into Otabek’s mouth.

 

_ Oh my god. _

 

Otabek was pretty certain he was having a religious experience. The moment couldn’t have been more than ten seconds, but it felt like longer, each sensation rocketing through him like wildfire, his mind and heart racing at the connection he felt with Yuri. He was too far gone already, too far deep in his head when it came to Yuri.

 

Their lips ghosted together one more time, this time Yuri initiating, their hands still together. It was innocent, perfectly innocent, but Otabek had  _ never _ felt like this when he had kissed JJ.

 

It was like his whole body was light up by the sun. 

 

They could have been connected like that for days,  _ years _ even, but they were both startled by the sound of the door opening and a loud shriek.

 

“Oh my god,  _ Yurachka!” _ Mila’s voice cut through. Otabek pulled away, face beet red while Yuri scowled angrily towards the door, where Mila was standing with a shocked, gleeful expression on her face.

 

“Mila how the fuck did you even  _ get _ in here?” Yuri scowled, looking far more composed than Otabek felt. “This is his room.”

 

Mila looked like the cat that had caught the canary, a grin blossoming over her face. “You didn’t have the door closed all the way, idiot. I’ve been looking everywhere for you and Victor suggested you might be in here.”

 

“You could have at least knocked!” Yuri groaned while Otabek looked down towards the floor.

 

Mila shot Yuri a wink. “I  _ did. _ Seems you were a bit preoccupied, though! I’ll leave you alone, but I just thought I’d tell you Yakov wants a word in the morning.”

 

“Night, Otabek!” she laughed before shutting the door behind her as she exited to the hallway. Otabek was fairly certain he was going to die of embarrassment, now, instead of joy. 

 

“Ugh, stupid hag,” Yuri groaned. Otabek was flushed red, his mind and body flooded with all sorts of contrasting emotions. 

 

_ That did not just happen. Or...did it? Did I really kiss him? _

 

Yuri grumbled some more before flopping back on the bed, pulling Otabek down to join him. They cuddled up together as they had many nights before, but Otabek had never felt like  _ this _ while sharing a bed with Yuri. Trying not to let his emotions get the better of him, Otabek tried to focus on the fact that he was supposed to  _ skate  _ in the morning.

 

As if fate had other plans, Yuri suddenly leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to Otabek’s cheek. He pulled away quickly, but Otabek could still feel it lingering.

 

“Thanks for being my friend,” Yuri said softly, snuggling down on Otabek’s chest, “My best friend. That was nice.”

 

Otabek’s heart clenched at the words, but he couldn’t find the energy to speak as Yuri’s eyes began to droop closed, dozing off on his chest. It wasn’t until after Yuri had fallen asleep that Otabek let his thoughts consume him.

 

_ I’m so fucked. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuri's being really thick, but he'll get there eventually!


	13. what the hell is the catch?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri tiptoed through the room towards the door, stomach sinking as he caught sight of JJ, sitting by himself on a bench, face buried in his hands. He was completely alone.
> 
> _Where are his coaches? Why is he by himself? Is he just upset he lost?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Here's a new chap for you. Hope you enjoy!

The thundering of the Japanese national anthem under any other circumstances would have bothered Yuri on the podium, but today he could only celebrate for Yuuri as he won gold. He looked to his left where Otabek was, proudly standing with the bronze medal around his neck. 

 

Yuri couldn’t be any prouder of his friends, thrilled to be standing between them with the silver around his neck. He was a little bitter that he hadn’t won the gold, but something about having Otabek at his side made his silver feel like more of a win. Besides, it was probably Katsudon’s last Olympics, so Yuri would have time to wipe away his records and win gold for Russia soon enough.

 

He was jarred out of his thoughts by a thundering of applause as the Japanese anthem concluded and Yuri smiled up at Yuuri.

 

“Good job, Katsudon,” he said sincerely, pleased when Yuuri beamed back.

 

“You too!” Yuuri exclaimed, “Both of you.” 

 

Yuri turns to Otabek, who is raising the flag of Kazakhstan up for the flashing cameras, a rare smile on his face.

 

_ I’m glad he’s showing them more emotion. It’s nice to see him smile in public, not just around me. _

 

Yuri’s mind flashes to the soft kiss he and Otabek had shared, but he pushed it out of his mind. He wasn’t sure why, but every time he had looked at Otabek over the past few days, a memory of the kiss would pop into his head, filling his body with a strange kind of warmth. 

 

It was all very confusing.

 

Forgetting his emotions for the moment, he stepped down off the podium with Yuuri and Otabek, taking pictures for the paparazzi. When the fervor died down a little, Yuri watched as Victor surged from the crowd, pulling Yuuri into a deep kiss, both of them crying tears of joy.

 

“Gross,” he commented to Otabek, who looked over at the pair with a grin.

 

“Let them celebrate, Yura,” Otabek said, “Yuuri deserves it.”

 

Yuri nodded. “He does. His free skate was  _ incredible. _ Although, I still think no one skates with the power that you do. I’ve never seen you do some of those moves before, Beka! You were amazing.”

 

Otabek beamed at him and Yuri’s mouth went dry, unable to recall what he was about to say. In lieu of pointless conversation, Yuri simply leaned over and pulled Otabek into a hug, ignoring the fact that they were still surrounded by the press.

 

“You were incredible,” Otabek mumbled into his hair. “It was amazing to watch you.”

 

Yuri grinned, hiding his face in Otabek’s shoulder and relaxing into the hug for a few moments. After they broke apart, Yuri took one of Otabek’s hands in his own, threading their fingers together as they walked towards the locker rooms to change. Yuri heard the camera’s going off behind them and he realized there would probably be rumors flying around about them the next few days. He saw Otabek looked strained, and Yuri scowled back at the press.

 

_ So, who cares if we’re closer than most best friends? It’s our business. We can hold fucking hands if we want to. I wish it didn’t stress Otabek out. _

 

To make a point to the press, Yuri squeezed Otabek’s fingers and leaned in on his shoulder, pleased when Otabek squeezed back, both turning to head into the locker room to get their things. 

 

Once inside, Yuri found himself swept up into a hug by Victor, who was already there with Yuri. 

 

“I am so proud of you, Yurachka,” Victor murmured into his ear, “You were incredible.”

 

Otabek was chatting with his coach, who looked very pleased with him, and Yuri smiled with pride. He knew how much an Olympic medal meant to Otabek, meant to his country. Yuri sometimes took for granted the number of the Russian athletes represented at the Olympics.

 

Yakov and Lilia were waiting for Yuri, so he hurried and changed as quickly as he could, feeling a sense of relief at the season being over for a time. He knew it would mean time to relax and visit Otabek, or perhaps Yuuri’s family in Japan. 

 

“Yura, come on!” Otabek said. “Let’s go meet everyone for dinner.”

 

Yuri nodded, grabbing his back and chatting happily with them as they exited the locker room. On the way out, he realized he had misplaced something.

 

“Hey, I’ll meet you guys in a minute!” Yuri said to the group. “I just forgot my phone, I’ll be right back.”

 

Turning to walk back into the locker room, Yuri headed over to where he had left his things, happy to see his phone was still on the bench. Picking it up and sliding it into his pocket, he turned to leave, but a small noise startled him.

 

_ Shit, what was that? Is...is someone crying? _

 

Yuri tiptoed through the room towards the door, stomach sinking as he caught sight of JJ, sitting by himself on a bench, face buried in his hands. He was completely alone.

 

_ Where are his coaches? Why is he by himself? Is he just upset he lost? _

 

Yuri opened his mouth to say something, but JJ’s face is still hidden and Yuri quickly loses his nerve. As quietly as he could, he slipped out through the side door, feeling a little less elated than before.

 

Otabek’s face dropped a little when he saw the expression that Yuri was wearing, but no one else seemed to notice. Yuri grabbed Otabek’s hand again, ignoring the idle chatter around them.

 

“What’s wrong, Yura?” Otabek asked quietly, looking very concerned. 

 

Yuri just shook his head. “It’s JJ. He was all by himself crying in the locker room. I mean, his coaches weren’t even there. Sorry, I know you don’t like him.”

 

He looked up to see that Otabek’s face had tightened. 

 

“I don’t dislike him,” Otabek said softly, “We just had a falling out. But the crying...that’s what he does when he loses.”

 

_ What? _

 

“Are you telling me he fucking cries  _ everytime _ he loses?” Yuri scoffed, “Is he a baby or something?”

 

Otabek sighed, looking at the ground, clearly lost in thought. 

 

“No, it’s not from a place of...of pettiness,” Otabek murmured, “Or being a sore loser. He’s always struggled with anxiety and being around so many other high profile skaters is kind of his worst nightmare. Especially when he loses. He just kind of gets stuck in his head. Everyone just kind of...knows when he needs his space. That’s why he’s by himself.”

 

Yuri  _ tch’s _ at that. “I still think it’s pathetic.”

 

“Yura, JJ doesn’t have a single friend at these events. He’s not like you and me,” Otabek said softly. “I think he just feels isolated sometimes.”

 

_ That’s still not an excuse for...well, maybe it is an excuse for crying, but I still don’t like the guy. _

 

“Maybe if he wasn’t such an unapproachable, arrogant, twat-” Yuri started, but stopped his stream of words when he caught sight of Otabek’s face. He looked deeply unhappy, definitely not the expression that an Olympic medalist should be wearing.

 

“Yura, there’s something about JJ that I should probably tell you,” Otabek said softly, and Yuri was all ears.

 

“Yeah, what’s that?”

 

Just then, Yuri realized that they had reached the cars that were waiting to take them to their hotel before dinner. Yuri remembered that he was supposed to be riding with Yakov and Lilia, so he hugged Otabek quickly.

 

“I’ve got to go in that car,” he said, pointing towards the one he was riding in. “To be continued?”

 

Otabek gives a weird smile, one Yuri has begun to recognize as a sign of stress. “Sure. After dinner.”

 

The ride to the hotel is uneventful, mainly Yakov and Lilia singing his praises and Yuri scrolling through his phone. For some reason, his head is still stuck on the sight of JJ crying in the locker room by himself and it makes him feel weird and twisted in his.

 

_ Is this...do I feel bad for him? Aw, shit. _

 

Opening his texts, he shoots a quick message to Otabek.

 

**Yuri:** Hey do you have jjs phone number

**Beka:** Uh...yes. Why do you ask?

**Yuri:** I want to invite him out to dinner with us.

**Beka:** Are you sure? That’s not like you.

**Yuri:** Yeah well im trying this new thing where im nice to people besides you

**Beka:** Okay I’ll forward you his contact info.

 

Yuri waited for a moment before JJ’s information came through. Once he had added the contact, feeling a little weird, he opens his texts again.

 

**Yuri:** This is Yuri Plisetsky.

**JJ:** Hi…?

**Yuri:** Otabek gave me your number. do you want to come out to dinner with us? You can invite your gf and coaches and stuff

**JJ:** Can I ask what brought this on

**Yuri:** turning over a new leaf i guess. Do you want to fucking come to dinner or not Leroy

**JJ:** I’d be happy to be there! Just text me the details

**Yuri:** We’re eating at that place right outside the hotel. Yakov made reservations for 9pm. 

**JJ:** Great! See you then. And Yuri??

**Yuri:** what

**JJ:** Thanks

 

Yuri locks his phone, feeling a little weird, but also kind of good about extending an invitation to JJ. It’s pretty obvious that JJ and Otabek had been friends back in Canada, but Yuri always figured JJ had ruined that when he had kissed Otabek at the banquet. He wondered if instead, JJ had pushed Otabek away.

 

_ Either way, it’s pathetic and that guy needs some friends. Some cool friends.  _

 

When they arrive at the hotel, everyone goes to their respective rooms to change into more appropriate attire to wear to a casual dinner. Yuri just wants a shower, and he wants a few uninterrupted moments with Otabek. Once on his floor, he drags his bag over to his room, sliding in his key card and entering.

 

Otabek is already there, lounging on his bed wearing what looked like pajamas. Yuri frowned at the sight.

 

“Hey, Beka, up and at em! We’ve got to be at the restaurant soon,” Yuri said. 

 

Otabek sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yura, I’m  _ exhausted, _ and…”

 

“No,” Yuri interrupted, plopping down on the bed. “You do not get to chicken out of this dinner! Is this because I invited JJ? Beka, I wouldn’t have if I knew it would make you uncomfortable.”

 

Otabek was a little red in the face, rubbing the back of his head, a sure sign that he was nervous. “It’s not that, not really. I just...Yura, I really am exhausted. And I haven’t hung out with JJ since...in a long time.”

 

_ Man, that kiss with JJ really messed him up. I still kind of want to beat JJ up for that, but we’ve all got to try and work together now. _

 

“Come on, Beka,” Yuri practically cooed at him, “The dinner is going to suck so much if you’re not there and I definitely can’t handle being around JJ on my own. I’m trying to be nicer, not running for Sainthood. Besides, how will I survive Victor and Yuuri’s gag-worthy displays without you?” 

 

Otabek laughed at that and groaned, throwing a hand over his eyes. “Okay, okay. You win. I’ll go.”

 

“Ha!” Yuri said triumphantly, snuggling down next to Otabek’s side. He smiled as he felt Otabek’s warm arm encircle him and he too suddenly had the urge to stay in.

 

_ Cuddling with him like this is so nice. _

 

Yuri thought back to their brief kiss again, a blush coming across his face. He still hadn’t sorted out his feelings about kissing Otabek, but cuddling like this still felt normal to him. He never felt quite so calm, so safe, as when he and Otabek were alone like this.

 

They laid like that for about ten minutes, Otabek gently caressing Yuri’s hair. Yuri had wanted to shower, but this was  _ so _ much better and he couldn’t be bothered to move. 

 

“We’ve got to get ready,” Otabek murmured suddenly. “We’re supposed to be in the lobby in thirty minutes.”

 

Yuri groaned, burying his face into Otabek’s t-shirt. “I don’t want to.”

 

Otabek laughed gently. “Yura, it was your idea to invite JJ. Besides, how often do the gold, silver, and bronze Olympic medalists go out to eat together with their shared friends? Come on, it’s an experience!”

 

“Fine,” Yuri grumbled, sitting up at yawning. “I’m going to jump in the shower, then.”

 

While he showered quickly, Yuri thought of the dinner, unease twisting in his gut as he thought about eating with JJ. He wasn’t sure why it made him so uneasy, but something was putting him off. 

 

Eventually with hair dried and respectable outfits on, both he and Otabek headed for the lobby, seeing everyone else already there. Yuri grinned as he saw Mila with Sara, clearly joining their party for the evening. Mila looked up, grinning as she saw Otabek and Yuri holding hands. He blushed a little, although unsure why.

 

Quickly averting his eyes, he saw JJ, his fiancé, and what was probably his family there. He felt Otabek stiffen slightly next to him and he briefly wondered why, before Otabek gently let go of his hand. Yuri was hurt for a split second, but he let it go. They didn’t need to hold hands all the time. They were just friends. Maybe Otabek’s hand was sweaty.

 

The whole group began walking to dinner and Yuri could swear he felt JJ’s eyes boring into the back of his head. Otabek seemed quieter than normal, and Yuri remembered his anxiousness about attending tonight. After a few minutes of walking, Yuri felt a tap on his shoulder.

 

“Hey!” JJ grinned, an arm slung over Isabella’s shoulder. “Thanks for the invite, Yuri.”

 

“No problem,” Yuri said, catching Isabella’s eyes as she smiled at him gratefully. 

 

Otabek was silent, not acknowledging them.

 

“How um...how’ve you been, Bek?” JJ asked quietly.

 

_ Bek? What the hell kind of nickname is that? _

 

“Fine,” Otabek said stiffly, sounding much more rigid than Yuri was used to hearing.

 

JJ sighed. “Look, before we get to dinner. I know I’ve said it a million times, but I’m sorry, okay? More than you know.”

 

Yuri was confused why JJ would bother apologizing for the kiss in front of Isabella, but she had distanced herself and was hanging back to speak with whom were presumably JJ’s parents. Yuri turned his attention back to Otabek, curious as to what was going on.

 

“Do you still want to come to our wedding?” JJ asked Otabek quietly. “Just as a guest, I mean. And you could bring, you know, whoever you want. I still think of you as one of my best friends, you know.”

 

_ Best friends? I didn’t know they were that close...I wonder if that’s what Otabek was trying to tell me earlier. It must be. _

 

“Of course I’ll come,” Otabek replied, looked a little more relaxed. Yuri watched the encounter, wondering if this was just JJ’s way of making a peace offering after his behavior at the banquet.

 

“Great!” JJ exclaimed. “I’ll go tell Bells!”

 

JJ practically skipped off to go talk to Isabella, and Otabek continued walking next to Yuri in what he interpreted as relieved silence.

 

_ “Bek?” _ was all Yuri had to say.

 

“Oh, shut up.” Otabek blushed while Yuri snickered, causing Mila to turn around and wink at him. Yuri rolled his eyes.

 

If he held Otabek’s hand all through dinner, he wasn’t going to admit it to Mila.

 

A few hours later with the dinner concluded and celebrations done for the night, Otabek and Yuri were back in their room, packing up their suitcases.

 

“So, what are your plans when you get back to Kazakhstan?” Yuri asked, trying to sound casual. He had been thrilled to see Otabek, but now came the part of the trip he had been dreading, saying goodbye.

 

“Normal stuff,” Otabek replied, “Fix up my bike, DJ a bit, help my parents out around the house. What about you?”

 

Yuri spluttered a bit, feeling wildly uncool after hearing Otabek’s plans. “Oh, um, probably just work on some ballet with Lilia, cook with my grandfather. Maybe practice at the rink.”

 

Otabek laughed. “Yura, it’s the off season! As in taking a break. Why don’t you come to Almaty for a few weeks?”

 

“Hell yeah!” Yuri grinned, “Although, I’ve gotta ask my grandfather’s permission, still have a few months before I’m eighteen. He was furious when I ran off to Japan when I was fifteen.”

 

Otabek smirked. “You’d ask his permission anyway.”

 

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Hey, if you can be a mama’s boy, I can be a grandpa’s boy.”  Laughing they continued to pack and Yuri once again flashed to the brief kiss they had shared together a few nights before.

 

_ Damn, why do I keep thinking about that? It didn’t mean anything serious, it was just really nice. I’m just happy that we’re going to be spending some time together this summer. _

 

_ So why can’t I stop thinking about it? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the chapter length because after some editing, there were two chapters I had planned that don't make sense now. So 18 it shall be! Thank you all for your nice reviews!


	14. i'm so into you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first place they stopped was an outdoor market. Yuri was delighted at the clothes and items he found, purchasing some things to wear in case they went clubbing. Otabek introduced him to some traditional foods, laughing at Yuri’s facial expressions each time he tried something new. Every so often, he would catch a glimpse of Otabek smiling at him, and his stomach would twist. Unsure as of why, he attempted to ignore it, and followed Otabek around the market, trying anything and everything they could.
> 
> Yuri had never had so much fun in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Hope you enjoy the fluffy Almaty goodness. <3

The flight from St. Petersburg to Almaty had been fairly smooth. Yuri had packed light, hoping to get in some shopping while he was there. He had one small backpack as a carry on and his suitcase was stored under the plane. Otabek was going to meet him at the airport and Yuri could barely contain his excitement at seeing his friend.

 

It had been a few weeks since the Olympics and Yuri’s grandfather had heartily approved of him going to visit “That nice Kazakh boy” as he called him. Yuri figured his grandfather was just happy that he had finally found a friend. Yuri was just excited to be spending two whole weeks in Almaty with no responsibilities other than spending time with Otabek.

 

When the plane finally landed and Yuri began to exit on the tarmac, his heart skipped a beat when he saw a familiar blue and yellow jacket at the end.

 

“Yura!” Otabek called out with a grin, “Over here!”

 

It had only been a few weeks, but Yuri was so excited to see him that he raced over, launching himself into a hug. Otabek laughed, hugging him back tightly before they broke apart. Yuri was elated, thrilled to be here after years of friendship.

 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Otabek said happily as they began to walk towards baggage claim, “We’ve been friends for near two years and you’ve never been here.”

 

“I know!” Yuri exclaimed, “It’s nice to spend some time together outside of skating.”

 

After they had collected Yuri’s bag, Otabek lead them out towards the entrance of the airport. Yuri noticed that a lot of people were staring and whispering at the pair of them and he suddenly remembered what a huge deal Otabek was in his own country.

 

“I almost forgot how famous you are,” Yuri said as he watched a young girl snap a photo of them from a distance, “I feel like I’m on a red carpet.”

 

“Not a lot of foreign athletes visit here, least of all Olympians,” Otabek said casually, “They’re used to me, it’s you they’re impressed with.”

 

Yuri blushed, ducking his head down. Despite being used to the press, he didn’t want to think about it while being on vacation with his friend. He decided to take it in stride, grabbing Otabek’s hand while he dragged his suitcase with the other. 

 

“Whatever. It’s just because we’re both cool as hell,” he said brazenly, causing Otabek to smirk.

 

When they finally made it outside, a small car was waiting for them. Yuri was confused, expecting to see a motorcycle, but he remembered that he couldn’t take his suitcase on that. Even more confusing were the two nice people sitting the front of the car, who Yuri immediately recognized as Otabek’s parents.

 

“Sorry,” Otabek blushed a little, “They really wanted to pick you up with me. Is that okay?”

 

Yuri rolled his eyes as they put his suitcase in the trunk. “Of course, Beka. You’re parents are like, the nicest people on the planet.”

 

Yuri had encountered Otabek’s parents, especially his mom, during their varying Skype sessions together. They were both extremely kind but a little mischievous, the exact type of people Yuri imagined as raising Otabek. Often they liked to embarrass Otabek by “accidentally” showing Yuri a baby photo or two. 

 

His kind of people.

 

Mrs. Altin opened the passenger door and stood to envelop Yuri in a gentle hug. He was surprised for a moment, but he melted into it, pleased at how quickly she seemed to accept him.

 

“Welcome to Kazakhstan!” she exclaimed in accented Russian, “I hope your flight was well?”

 

“Yes, thanks,” Yuri responded back, “Pretty uneventful.”

 

Smiling, she gestured him to the backseat where he and Otabek clambered in together, Otabek’s father giving him a smile and a wave before making sure they buckled their seatbelts and driving off towards their house.

 

As they drove, Otabek and his parents pointed out different sights to Yuri, who was enraptured not only by the city but by the landscape as well. He had traveled a lot in his life, but he rarely had time to enjoy where he was, usually focusing on the next event or the next medal. Now, he was able to drink in his surroundings and appreciate the beauty of where he was.

 

“Almost home!” Mr. Altin exclaimed, turning his car down a bumpy dirt road. After about five minutes, they pulled up in front of a small house, modest, yet well looked after. Yuri recognized it instantly from Otabek’s photos and also from his motorcycle parked out front. He smiled at the homeyness of it all; it reminded him of his grandfather’s apartment.

 

While Otabek’s parents parked the car, Otabek led Yuri inside, taking him back through the house to a room that was clearly his. It wasn’t large, but Otabek had clearly made the space his own. It looked well lived-in and Yuri smiled when he saw stacks and stacks of CDs, records, and varying equipment for DJing. His bed was pushed to the wall and a smaller air mattress was on the floor, made up with a cozy looking comforter. 

 

Yuri raised an eyebrow at it, looking over at Otabek. They had shared a bed together on multiple occasions, so he figured they’d do the same here. Otabek saw his look and blushed.

 

“I didn’t want to presume,” he said, while Yuri rolled his eyes, dumping his bags on the floor. They chatted for a while, unpacking some of Yuri’s things before Otabek asked the question Yuri had been dying for all morning.

 

“Want to go out on my motorc-”

 

“Yes!” Yuri interrupted, face reddening a little while Otabek laughed quietly. They bade a goodbye to Otabek’s parents before heading outside, strapping on helmets. Otabek settled on first, Yuri climbing behind him and wrapping his arms firmly around Otabek’s waist. 

 

“Where do you want to go?” Otabek asked in a weird voice.

 

_ He sounds kind of strained, I wonder why? _

 

“Hmm, anywhere,” Yuri replied, “Surprise me, Altin.”

 

He could feel Otabek smiling before he responded. “Hang on tight, Plisetsky.”

 

Otabek released the kickstand and started the bike up, clearly thrilled at being able to ride with Yuri. Yuri himself was beaming, stomach swooping with the sensation of riding on the motorcycle, wind whipping fiercely across his face, causing his hair to blow back in the breeze.

 

_ This is fucking incredible. _

 

The first place they stopped was an outdoor market. Yuri was delighted at the clothes and items he found, purchasing some things to wear in case they went clubbing. Otabek introduced him to some traditional foods, laughing at Yuri’s facial expressions each time he tried something new. Every so often, he would catch a glimpse of Otabek smiling at him, and his stomach would twist. Unsure as of why, he attempted to ignore it, and followed Otabek around the market, trying anything and everything they could.

 

Yuri had never had so much fun in his life.

 

The next place they went was at the top of a road overlooking a stunning landscape. The mountains laid out around them, caught in the blaze of afternoon sun, and Yuri was enraptured by the sight of them glittering. He wasn’t sure if he had ever been somewhere so beautiful before.

 

“This is amazing,” he exhaled quietly, raising his phone to take a picture. He frowned when he looked it over, the picture not even doing the view a percentage of its beauty. 

 

“It doesn’t do it justice, does it?” Otabek asked softly, gazing out over the mountains, “I try to describe to people what it’s like to look at these mountains and I never can seem to do it.”

 

Yuri was silent, but he nodded in understanding. Sure, St. Petersburg was beautiful, but he had never seen a view that had caught his attention quite like this. The stood silently for a few minutes, a gentle breeze making Yuri feel like he was on top of the world, peering down over the edge. 

 

“Want to take a picture with me instead?” Otabek asked after a time and Yuri grinned. They both turned around, mountains in the background, while Yuri leaned his head against Otabek’s. They snapped the photo and Yuri captioned it with “Visiting Almaty with my #BFF,” uploading it onto his Instagram. Otabek posted it too, captioning it in Kazakh which Yuri was unable to decipher.

 

“What does that mean?” Yuri asked, seeing the notification.

 

“Nothing,” Otabek smiled softly, “Just basically what you wrote.”

 

Yuri raised an eyebrow, but didn’t press further. Instead, they both climbed on the bike, heading back to the Altin’s house. Once there, both Otabek and Yuri changed, as Otabek had a gig at a local club that evening.

 

Yuri was beyond excited, if not a little nervous. Otabek had invited his friends and Yuri was a little intimidated about meeting them. He had heard more than enough stories from Otabek about their shenanigans, and he hoped he would fit in with them. In an attempt to look good, but not overbearing, Yuri pulled on a pair of black jeans that he liked along with some leopard print shoes. He tugged on a shirt he had bought that day, a silver tank top, and sighed as he looked at his shoulder-length hair in the mirror.

 

_ I like my hair long, but it feels...I dunno, I want more of an edge to it. _

 

Suddenly struck with an idea, Yuri clambered over to the other side of the room, where Otabek was putting on his own outfit, sticking to all black for the DJ booth. 

 

“Beka,” he said, eyes bright with excitement, “Beka, I want you to buzz the side of my head.”

 

“What?” Otabek asked, looking at him with surprised eyes, “But Yura, your hair…”

 

Yuri waved him off. “I still want it long. Just give me an undercut on the side. C’mon, it’ll look totally badass.”

 

Otabek bit his lip looking over Yuri’s hair, before breaking into a grin. “Yeah, yeah sure. Let me go get some stuff from the bathroom, okay?”

 

Yuri nodded, sitting down on the bed facing Otabek’s mirror. He pushed his hair to one side, trying to imagine what it would feel like once it was buzzed. Otabek returned with a hair trimmer and a towel, wrapping the latter around Yuri’s neck.

 

“This will make such a mess,” Otabek sighed, “But it’ll be worth it. You sure, Yura?”

 

Yuri nodded, grinning. “Yes. It’s gonna look so good, Beka.”

 

Otabek grinned, turning on the trimmer and slowly began to buzz the side. Yuri closed his eyes at first, feeling long strands of his hair falling against him. Finally, the sound of the buzzing stopped and Yuri cracked an eye open.

 

_ Fuck, I look hot as hell. _

 

Grinning like mad, Yuri caressed the now buzzed side of his head, loving how it contrasted with the long hair on the other side. 

 

“Like it?” Otabek smirked, already knowing the answer.

 

“It looks good as hell,” Yuri responded, gently taking off the towel, grabbing onto as much of the loose hair as he could. Otabek gestured to the trash can, where Yuri dumped the strands of blonde, gently tossing the towel into Otabek’s hamper.

 

“It’s very badass,” Otabek said, looking him over. “It suits you.”

 

Yuri blushed at the compliment, his stomach twisting and turning again. Determined to stay cool in front of Otabek, he flashed another grin.

 

“Do I look hot enough to impress your friends?” he asked boldly, surveying his new haircut and outfit in the mirror.

 

“Definitely,” Otabek said, “Although, I think they’re already impressed by you. They all follow you on Instagram, you know. Speaking of which, I’ve just gotten a message from one of them. It’s time to head out, are you ready? My set starts in an hour.”

 

Yuri nodded and soon they were back on Otabek’s motorcycle, wind whipping past their faces as they headed to the club. When they arrived, Otabek introduced Yuri to his group of friends, all of whom were very nice and welcoming, and led them inside as he went to set up. 

 

When Otabek set started, the crowd rushed the dance floor, Yuri’s heart pounding with adrenaline. He danced with Otabek’s friends for a few minutes before looking up to the booth, his mouth suddenly going dry.

 

It was obviously hot in the booth with the lights, and Otabek was dripping with sweat. Normally Yuri would find that disgusting, but there was something nice about it on Otabek. Watching Otabek drop and change the beat was addictive, and soon Yuri had nearly forgotten to dance because he was so enraptured with watching the show.

 

_ What is wrong with me? Why can’t I stop staring at him? _

 

Yuri snapped out of it after a moment, getting back into dancing with Otabek’s friends. The night was fabulous, and by the end of it, it was nearly four am. Otabek said goodbye to his friends, walking through the club towards Yuri, who was hot, exhausted, and happy from having one of the most fun days of his life.

 

The ride back to the Altin’s house felt like a dream and as soon as they parked the bike, they both headed inside. Yuri crashed on Otabek’s bed without a thought, and Otabek followed suit, the two curled up together for the night.

 

The next morning, after breakfast and showers, Otabek apologized to Yuri. 

 

“I’m sorry Yura, but I promised I’d help my neighbor with something,” Otabek said apologetically, “It won’t take just a minute, do you want to come?”

 

Yuri shrugged, surprised when they headed outside, passing the motorcycle completely and instead walking down the road. They chatted happily until coming across a decrepit looking house, an elderly couple sitting on the porch.

 

_ Aw fuck, does he seriously help old people in his free time? Beka, how are you honestly this good? _

 

Otabek’s neighbors call out to him in Kazakh, him waving as they point towards the garage. Otabek nodded and gestured Yuri over, where they walked into the garage towards a small cardboard box.

 

A box that was  _ meowing. _

 

“Their cat had kittens a few weeks ago,” Otabek explained, kneeling down. “They can’t keep them all, so they said I’d be happy to take one if I wanted. Want to help me choose?”

 

Yuri’s heart melted as he looked down to see the different colored kittens all climbing over one another. Otabek laughed a little as he picked up one that had stumbled and fallen into a bowl of food.

 

“Silly thing,” Otabek cooed, “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

 

Yuri sat down next to the box and watched as Otabek got a rag wet in a nearby sink, sitting back down and gently began rubbing at the kitten’s face. He swallowed hard, heart hammering, as his stomach did flips.

 

_ Oh, shit. _

 

Yuri’s heart pounded as he watched Otabek cuddle up the small animal, a gentle smile on his face. He was slowly cleaning the kitten’s face and ears, taking in a soft, steady voice.

 

“What are we going to name you, hm?” Otabek cooed to the little kitten, adoration on every part of his face. Yuri’s heart hammered with nerves, completely, and totally enraptured by the sight. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but then he caught sight of Otabek smiling down at the cat and his heart took off.

 

_ Oh my god. Oh holy shit. That’s what this is? _

_ Fuck, I...holy shit, I have feelings for him. _

_ Oh my god, I have feelings for him and I kissed him and he holds my hand and we sleep in the same bed? What does that mean? There’s no way he likes me back, he’s way too cool, shit, shit, shit! _

 

“Yura, what do you think?” Otabek asked, wrenching Yuri from his thoughts, “About the name.”

 

_ Fuck, just stay cool Yuri. _

 

“Uh...something badass,” he blurted, a bit of a blush dusting his cheeks, trying to sound nonchalant, “Puma Tiger Scorpion the Second.”

 

Otabek laughed at Yuri’s reference to his own cat, a deliciously warm laugh that made the ends of Yuri’s toes curl and his heart keep pounding. 

 

“That’s kind of a mouthful,” Otabek smirked, cuddling the kitten close to his chest. The little thing had buried its face into Otabek’s shirt, purring loud enough that Yuri could hear.

 

“How about Harley?” Yuri said quickly, “Like your bike.”

 

Otabek grinned, making Yuri’s stomach do backflips. “Yeah, yeah! That’s a great name. Harley it is. Want to hold her?”

 

Yuri’s throat went dry, nodding as Otabek came over, sitting down next to him, their shoulders touching. Yuri’s mind was racing, face aflame as Otabek gave him the small kitten to hold. His heart felt like it was going to explode being so close to Otabek and he hoped he could stay cool despite the feeling.

 

He was momentarily distracted as the kitten snuggled her face into his shirt, a dopey grin appearing on his face. Yuri petted her softly, trying to ignore how Otabek was pressed up against his side, Yuri able to smell his cologne and the scent of his leather jacket.

 

The kitten purred loudly, kneading her claws into Yuri’s shirt while Otabek chuckled at the sight.

 

“It looks like she thinks you’re her mom,” Otabek smiled and Yuri grinned.

 

“I wouldn’t mind being a cat mom,” Yuri responded, “She’s cute.”

 

_ And so are you. No, fuck! Hold it together! _

 

“You’re not too shabby yourself, you know,” Otabek said casually and Yuri nearly had a heart attack.

 

_ What does that mean? Does he know what he’s doing to me? _

 

Before Yuri could respond, Otabek cleared his throat and wore his nervous smile, the ‘stress smile,’ as Yuri had dubbed it. He looked incredibly uncomfortable before it shifted into something more neutral. 

 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Otabek began, looking at his hands, “Do you want to come to JJ and Isabella’s wedding with me? He said I could bring a plus one and I thought you might want to…”

 

_ A date? Is this a date? _

 

“Yes,” Yuri blurted, red in the face, “I, um, want to.”

 

“Just as friends, I mean,” Otabek blushed while Yuri’s heart sank. “You know, no pressure.”

 

_ Fuck. Oh well, it’ll still be nice to be with him. _

 

“Of course,” Yuri responded warmly, voice not betraying his disappointment, “I’d love to go with you, Beka.”

 

“Thanks,” Otabek replied, looking relieved. “My ex is...going to be there, so I was feeling a little uncomfortable about going alone.”

 

_ Oh, shit. I forgot about his ex. He barely ever talks about him. _

 

“Well, then I guess we’ll just have to show up looking hot as hell, right? He’ll realize what he’s missing out on,” Yuri replied, meaning every word.

 

Otabek smiled at him and gently nudged Yuri’s shoulder, both of them a little red in the face.

 

“Thanks, Yura,” he murmured, “You really are my best friend, you know?”

 

“I know.”

 

_ I just wish we could be something more.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cue mutual pining! And next chapter is the dreaded, long-awaited wedding. Hold on to your hats, folks!


	15. to the groom, to the bride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah, so can you believe it?” he was saying to Yuri, “Otabek gets straight up dumped after nearly a year on a whim and runs back home. Oh, hey Otabek.”
> 
> Otabek’s stomach dropped instantly as Yuri turned to face him, an indescribable expression on his face.
> 
>  
> 
> _Does Yuri know? Did he tell him? Does he know it was JJ?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Thank you for the amazing comments & kudos! Here is the long awaited JJBella wedding. I hope you enjoy!

Otabek had to admit that JJ and Isabella had taste. The wedding venue was stunning, a beautiful church for the service and a reception hall in a nearby hotel. The wedding was in Canada and both he and Yuri had flown in a few days ago to see the sights and get used to the time difference.

 

The day of the wedding had arrived quickly, Yuri and Otabek rushing to get ready in their room. It had been Otabek’s idea to go hiking in the morning in the hopes of seeing some local wildlife, but the snow had made it difficult to get back to the hotel on time.

 

“We were supposed to be getting ready an hour ago,” Yuri grumbled, styling his hair quickly, suit half on.

 

Otabek tried to ignore the swoop in his stomach that he felt when Yuri pushed his hair to the side, revealing the haircut he had given him in Almaty. His feelings for Yuri were intensifying each day and Otabek wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep them hidden.

 

Tying his tie, Otabek rolled his eyes fondly. “An hour for what? Look, we’re almost ready and now we don’t have to wait around for everything to start.”

 

Yuri cursed under his breath, reaching for some cologne and spritzing it on. He reached over and rubbed the excess on Otabek’s neck, causing him to turn beet red in spite of himself.

 

“Whatever,” Yuri scoffed, not noticing his blush, “But I thought the goal was to make us both the hottest couple there to make your ex jealous. What does he look like, anyhow?”

 

The question took Otabek off guard, but Yuri’s phone buzzed just then, taking his attention away from the conversation while he checked his phone.

 

“Oh, Mila and Sara are here,” Yuri said casually, quickly typing back, “They said they’ll save us seats. Ready?”

 

Otabek nodded, handing Yuri his suit jacket. They both stared at each other for a moment, adjusting one another’s tuxes, before making sure they both had their wallets and phones, heading out of their room. Fortunately, the church where the wedding was happened to be right by their hotel, so the walk wouldn’t be too bad.

 

Heading outside and across the street towards the church, Otabek began to feel a nervous twisting in his stomach. He wasn’t afraid of seeing JJ and Isabella get married; he was long over JJ. He was more afraid of running into his former rinkmates and worse, JJ’s family. He hadn’t had much interaction with them at all since he and JJ had broken up, and he was loathe to think of what they might say to him now.

 

Sure enough, as soon as they reached the steps leading up into the church, Otabek found himself swept into a hug by JJ’s mother.

 

“Otabek!” Mrs. Leroy said happily, pulling away and smiling at him. “It’s been too long, dear. Congratulations on your medal! We were so proud of you.”

 

He could feel Yuri’s eyes looking questioningly at him, but Otabek simply smiled gently at Mrs. Leroy, hoping to keep the conversation moving quickly.

 

“Thank you, Mrs. Leroy,” he said politely, before putting a gentle hand on Yuri’s arm. “This is my friend Yuri Plisetsky. Yura, this is JJ’s mother.”

 

“Such a pleasure to meet you!” she gushed, shaking Yuri’s hand, “Jean speaks very highly of you.”

 

Otabek watched as Yuri clearly held back a laugh at that, attempting to remain polite. She quickly ushered them both inside, Otabek distracted momentarily by the beauty and vastness of the building. Stained glass windows adorned the walls, along with artistic iconography that was foreign to him.

 

“Wow,” Yuri said, echoing Otabek’s thoughts as they walked through the pews, “This place is amazing. Are all churches like this?”

 

Otabek shrugged. “Wouldn’t know. Our mosque was beautiful, too, but not a whole lot of churches around where I’m from.”

 

Yuri nodded, apparently still taken aback by the decor. “I never went to church or anything, this place is amazing. It reminds of that cathedral in-”

 

“Barcelona,” Otabek finished in agreement. They walked in silence for a few more moments, only turning when they heard their names being called.

 

“Yuri! Otabek!” Mila’s voice came through and they turned to see Mila and Sara sitting down in one of the pews. Heading over, they said their greetings and took a seat next to them.

 

“So, Sara’s just been telling me all about Catholic weddings,” Mila said, looking over the program, “Looks like Bella and JJ went all out.”

 

Yuri laughed. “Bella? Who knew you were so close.”

 

Sara rolled her eyes. “We had to adopt her, poor thing was all alone at the men’s competitions. We’re friends now.”

 

They continued talking and laughing together for a few minutes, enjoying people watching as more and more people came and sat down. Otabek was a little overwhelmed; there must have been close to three hundred guests.

 

“Who knew they were this popular?” Yuri whispered and Otabek nodded.

 

_If this was my wedding I wonder who would show up?_

 

He had a sudden flash of Yuri sliding a ring on his finger and his face turned bright red, wondering where in the hell _that_ thought had come from.

 

_Hold it together, Otabek. He doesn’t even like you that way._

 

The sound of organ music brought Otabek back to his senses and he realized the church had gone silent, waiting for the wedding party to arrive. Soon, couples started walking down and he heard Yuri make a sarcastic comment regarding the bridesmaids dresses, which made him laugh a little. Otabek didn’t recognize everyone walking up the aisle, but he was a little surprised when he saw how much JJ’s brother and sister had grown. He realized happily that JJ’s brother was best man, and Otabek felt a large sense of relief that it was not him standing up with the groomsmen.

 

When JJ finally began walking up, his parents on either side of him, Otabek felt a surge of fond happiness for him. Things may have been awkward between them for years, but JJ looked purely, honestly, and unconditionally happy, and Otabek couldn’t find it in his heart to resent him for any of it.

 

Isabella’s turn to walk down the aisle came next and they stood, Otabek enthralled by how beautiful she looked.

 

“Damn, do you think she made the bridesmaids look so hideous so she could look that much better?” Yuri whispered, “It’s not like she needed to, that dress was amazing!”

 

“JJ’s grandma made the bridesmaids dresses,” Mila whispered, “But her dress is from this amazing designer…”

 

Otabek stopped listening to the conversation as he watched Isabella walk up the aisle with tears in her eyes. He was truly happy for her and JJ, pleased that after years they had finally made good on their promise and gotten married. He didn’t feel an ounce of bitterness or regret for their lost relationship, only happiness that they had found each other.

 

The ceremony was long and Otabek was lost at some parts, but when they finally kissed, he cracked a real smile, applauding politely. Once the wedding party had exited, the four of them made their way to shuttles awaiting to take them to the reception at a nearby hotel.

 

The ride was pleasant, breaking into a bottle of champagne and toasting to the happy couple. When they arrived, Otabek’s heart sank to see that Mila and Sara were at a different table while he and Yuri were at a table with many of JJ’s friends and Otabek’s former rinkmates.

 

“Well, that’s just great,” Yuri scoffed, “New people. My _favorite.”_

 

_My sentiments exactly._

 

They sat down quietly, the others at the table introducing themselves to Yuri and greeting Otabek enthusiastically. After nearly an hour of speeches, drinks, toasts, and dinner, Otabek had loosened up considerably and their table had become quite raucous.

 

“Yuri, you should have seen him,” one of Otabek’s former rinkmates was saying through sips of his drink, “Otabek was so short. And he had a _terrible_ haircut. Well, until JJ fixed it for him.”

 

Yuri spluttered, turning around to look at him. _“JJ’s_ why you have that haircut? Holy shit. That’s hilarious!”

 

Otabek shrugged, thinking a little fondly back on the time JJ had cut his hair, his first kiss. He would always treasure those memories, the first time he had felt something like love. Of course, the sensation of that day in the locker room was nothing compared to the feelings he harbored towards Yuri now, but it was still a fond memory for him.

 

“Tell me more embarrassing stories about Otabek,” Yuri grinned wickedly, “Spill.”

 

Otabek sighed heavily, listening on as his former rinkmates dragged him a little, laughing a long at the ridiculous stories. After a time, he felt he needed a break from company.

 

“I’ve got to use the restroom,” he said to Yuri, “Be right back.”

 

Yuri nodded and Otabek stood, weaving through the crowd and tables to head to the bathroom. Once inside, he splashed some water on his face, taking a few moments to breathe in the silence. He enjoyed catching up with his friends, but the crowd and noise was a lot, and having a few peaceful moments to himself was worth it.

 

After about five minutes, Otabek took a deep breath and headed back out, making his way towards the table. Once in his seat, he saw Yuri deep in conversation with the same rinkmate from before.

 

“Yeah, so can you believe it?” he was saying to Yuri, “Otabek gets straight up _dumped_ after nearly a year on a whim and runs back home. Oh, hey Otabek.”

 

Otabek’s stomach dropped instantly as Yuri turned to face him, an indescribable expression on his face.

 

_Does Yuri know? Did he tell him? Does he know it was JJ?_

 

“Your ex was a total asshole,” Yuri spat, not noticing how the others were looking at him in confusion.

 

“Well, um, Yuri, you see…” he began awkwardly, rubbing the back of his hair. Thankfully at that moment, the DJ announced it was time to dance and the table stood up, Yuri grabbing Otabek’s hand and pulling him up.

 

“I’m sorry your ex was a douche,” Yuri whispered in his ear, “Let’s go dance, okay? Make him jealous?”

 

Otabek just nodded, stumbling a little as Yuri pulled him to the dance floor. The music was fun and light, pounding tempo. Many people were jumping and getting sloppy, JJ and Isabella in the center of the fun. Otabek tried not to gasp as Yuri’s hands gently rested on his waist, their foreheads pressed together.

 

“Dance with me, Altin,” Yuri said softly, and Otabek could only nod.

 

They danced for what felt like hours, Otabek trying his best to lose himself in the sensations. At one point, Yuri threw his arms around Otabek’s neck while Otabek placed his hands on Yuri’s hips, their hips slotting together. Otabek was in heaven, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation that Yuri had at the table. He realized after a time that he hadn't really been participating in the dancing, simply following Yuri's lead.

 

After a few more songs, Yuri pulled away, an angry look on his face. Otabek was confused, but Yuri pulled him away by the hand, leading him out of the hall into a secluded hallway.

 

“What the hell is going on with you, Beka?” Yuri said once they had entered the more private space.

 

_What does he mean? This isn’t the time or the place. I’ve got to tell him on my own terms._

 

“Is your ex here?” Yuri went on, folding his arms. “Is that why you’re acting like this? You weren’t really even dancing with me. You barely talked to me at all tonight!”

 

Otabek tried to hide his face, the buzz from the drink making him unable to hold his serious expression, vulnerability showing through, despite his best efforts.

 

“No, I…” Otabek blushed, “I mean, I just…”

 

“For God’s sake!” Yuri spat, throwing his arms up in the air. “If it’s bothering you so much that your ex is here, let’s go give JJ and Isabella our best and get the fuck out of here.”

 

“JJ _is_ my ex,” Otabek blurted, before inhaling sharply as he realized what he had said.

 

_Oh, fuck._

 

Summoning his courage, he raised his head, devastated to see Yuri looking horrified at the confession, his worst fears confirmed.

 

 _“What?”_ Yuri hissed, taking a step back. “JJ is _what?”_

 

Otabek swallowed nervously, furiously upset with himself for blurting it out.

 

“So the guy that you _loved_ that treated you like _utter, complete shit_ , that was JJ?” Yuri asked in a dangerously quiet voice, sounding more infuriated by the moment. Otabek could only nod, feeling worse by the moment.

 

“Fuck,” Yuri cursed, clenching his fists. “I...fuck, I don’t even know what to say to you right now. Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

 

Otabek looked down, twisting his hands together. “I was...scared.”

 

Yuri _tched_ loudly, causing Otabek’s eyes to raise back up. His stomach dropped when he saw that Yuri looked close to tears, feeling more guilty by the minute.

 

“Why didn’t you trust me?” Yuri asked quietly. “I thought...I thought we were friends.”

 

Otabek’s gut clenched. “I’m sorry, Yura,” he replied softly. “I was afraid you’d never talk to me again. I know how...how you felt about JJ.”

 

Yuri laughed humorlessly, throwing his hands in the air. “Yeah, exactly. How I _felt_ about him! I told you about my stupid crush on Yuuri from when I was a kid, and you couldn’t even be honest with me! He was...god, Beka, he was your whole _life_ for a year! How could you not tell me?”

 

Somewhere towards the end of his sentence, Yuri had begun to cry and Otabek felt worse than he had ever felt in his life. He wanted nothing more than to take Yuri in his arms, to hold him and apologize, to beg forgiveness and kiss his hair, but he was rooted to the spot.

 

“I’m sorry,” Otabek practically whispered, feeling a tear roll down his own cheek, dropping his gaze again.

 

Yuri wiped at his eyes angrily. “I just don’t get it. He treated you like shit! That guy told me everything, how JJ fucking _loved_ you and then threw you out like you were nothing! How...god, Beka, you deserved so much more than that!”

 

Otabek was too shocked by the words to respond. Yuri sat down against the wall, a good foot of space between them, while Otabek kept staring down at the floor.

 

“I was sixteen and an idiot,” Otabek whispered, “And whatever he did...we really loved each other. Or at least, we thought we did.”

 

"So, that kiss...in Barcelona? He...was he trying to get back together with you?" Yuri sniffed.

 

Otabek shook his head, tears still falling. "No, we were fighting because he...he was upset about my exhibition skate. It was about him. I...Yura, I was saying goodbye to him."

 

Yuri rolled his eyes, looking completely don, despite the tear tracts on his face.. “I’m going to be sick. Are you telling me you...you two _slept_ together and everything?”

 

Otabek was a little taken aback. “Yura, no offense, but that really isn’t your business…”

 

Yuri laughed, that empty laugh that was making Otabek’s insides twist. “Fine, whatever. I guess being your best friend doesn’t mean shit to you. And to think tonight I was going to….you know what? Nevermind. Have fun, I’m going to go find Mila.”

 

“Yura…” Otabek murmured, trying desperately to salvage the situation, but Yuri had stormed off, presumably to find Mila.

 

Otabek felt awful. He realized suddenly how few close friends he really had, unable to think of a single person to call or speak with about what had just happened.

 

_The only person I want to talk to any of this about is Yura. But...shit, I should have just told him. Why did I keep this a secret for so long? I’m such an idiot. Did I ruin this?_

 

Otabek sighed, wiping at his eyes before putting his hands in his pockets and heading outside the hotel into the cold. After hailing a cab, he went back to the hotel, going up to his room and changing into pajamas. He wasn’t sure what would happen when Yuri came back to the room, but Otabek tried not to think about it. Tucking himself under the covers of his bed, he thought only of Yuri’s hands on his hips and how much it had hurt to feel rejected by him.

 

_I love you. I love you so damn much. I wish I had the courage to tell you._

_But I think…_

_I think we might be over, now._

 

His phone buzzed next to him, lighting up with missed texts from Yuri, and Otabek figured he probably should have said something before he left. Unable to summon the courage to read them, he turned his phone face down and buried his face in his pillow.

 

_I deserve this. He should be mad at me for not trusting him._

 

Sometime later, Otabek awoke to hearing rustling in the room. Knowing it was Yuri, Otabek didn’t have the courage to look up.

 

“Yeah, Mila, I found him. Asshole was back in the room. Have another drink for me, okay?” Yuri said quietly over the phone. Otabek’s heart sank as he realized he had ditched Yuri, his _date,_ at the wedding.

 

He listened closely as Yuri was getting ready for bed and he expected to feel him lay down next to him anytime. Instead, he heard the covers being wrenched up from the other, previously unused bed, as Yuri slid in that one, making Otabek’s heart sink. He tried to summon the courage to say something, but words failed him, and after a while, Yuri’s steady breathing alerted Otabek that he had fallen asleep.

 

Rolling on his back, a sliver of moonlight on his face, Otabek tried not to cry. He had never felt so lonely in his entire life. He tried, to no avail, to fall back asleep. Instead, he could only think of Yuri’s face covered in tears once he had discovered Otabek’s lie.

 

_I’ve really fucked things up now._

_Somehow, I’ll make this right._

 

_I love you, Yura._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, so Yuri finally knows. Please leave me a comment and let me know what you think!


	16. the only thing in life i can control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They dance for what feels like hours, practically no space between them. Yuri had forgotten about everyone else in the club, only focusing on Otabek and how close they were. After a few songs, Yuri boldly moved his hands from Otabek’s shoulders down to grip at the top of his jeans, pulling him, if possible, even closer. He feels Otabek gasp at the movement, pressing his forehead against Yuri’s.
> 
> It seemed impossible, but maybe Otabek was enjoying this just as much as he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovelies! Hope you enjoy!

The morning after the wedding Yuri had left before Otabek had woken up, leaving a blunt note saying he was taking off and he’d call later. However, it had been a week since the wedding, and Yuri hadn’t spoken to Otabek at all. Otabek’s social media was untouched and he hadn’t texted or called Yuri, probably out of fear for what Yuri would say.

 

Yuri knew he was being a little unreasonable. It wasn’t any of his business who Otabek had dated and it definitely wasn’t any of his business who he had slept with. Yuri was mostly upset that Otabek had kept it a secret, like he somehow didn’t trust him with the truth.

 

He also knew, although it was hard to admit, that he was jealous as _hell._

 

In a desperate attempt to understand what was happening with his feelings, he decided to call Mila and have her come over so they could commiserate together. It was late on a Friday night after practice when Mila rang, carrying ice cream and a few of Yuri’s favorite movies.

 

“Thanks, Milena,” he said as she hugged him. They had since settled on the couch and Mila was braiding his hair, pausing occasionally to eat spoonfuls of ice cream.

 

“So, have you called him?” she asked after two bowls of rocky road. Yuri shook his head.

 

“No, I haven’t. I’m just...fuck, I’m _jealous_ , and it’s not fair to him and it _sucks._ I like him so much,” Yuri whined, dropping his head on her shoulder. “Why did it have to be fucking _JJ_ of all people?”

 

Mila frowned sympathetically, working on the french braids in Yuri’s hair. “I don’t know, baby, but you shouldn’t let your friendship with Otabek fall out over this. I know how much you like him.”

 

Yuri groaned, bringing a hand up to rest on his forehead. “I know. But now...god, he scared the shit out of me at the wedding when he took off like that. And it’s been a week, what do I do? He hasn’t texted me at all.”

 

Mila sighed, beginning another braid. “Yura, he’s probably scared to text you first. He thinks you’re mad at him.”

 

“I _am_ mad at him,” Yuri growled.

 

“Well, that’s okay, but you should still talk to him. Your birthday is next week and you know you want him here,” Mila said and Yuri had to admit she was right.

 

Sighing in defeat, Yuri pulled out his phone and opened his texts, trying not to overthink too much as he typed out a quick message to Otabek. Feeling this much was _confusing,_ he was angry and wanted to kiss Otabek all at once. Not sure of how to convey that in a text, he kept it simple.

 

 **Yuri:** im still mad at you. Want to come to my birthday next week

 

He put his phone down, expecting it to be a while before he got an answer, but his phone vibrated almost immediately.

 

 **Otabek:** Can I call you please?

 **Yuri:** sure

 

Mila was reading the texts over Yuri’s shoulder and squeezed his arm gently before excusing herself, Yuri swallowing nervously as his phone began to ring. Sighing heavily, Yuri answered his phone with nerves twisting in his stomach.

 

“Hey Beka,” he said, sounding much more confident than he felt.

 

 _“Yura,”_ Otabek replied and Yuri’s stomach flip-flopped at hearing that soft voice again. _“Yura, I’m so sorry I ran off at the wedding. It was inexcusable to put you through something like that, especially when I asked you to come.”_

 

Yuri was momentarily startled by the blunt honesty. He forgot sometimes how open Otabek was with him and even though it sounded like this speech was taking a lot out of his friend, Yuri wanted to hear more. He wanted to know why Otabek didn’t trust him with the truth.

 

“I’m not mad about that,” Yuri answered truthfully, lying down on his back while he played with his hair. “I’m mad that you lied to me about JJ.”

 

 _“I know,”_ Otabek said softly. _“I’d like to explain, if you’d let me.”_

 

“Whatever,” Yuri scoffed, trying to sound nonchalant, even though his heart was pounding. “I guess I’ve got some time.”

 

_“Yura, JJ broke my heart.”_

 

Yuri’s breath hitches a little at that. For some reason, he had imagined JJ and Otabek as being together without any romantic feelings, but he knew that was an unfair assumption, given he didn’t know all the facts.

 

“Go on,” he encouraged, desperate to know the truth.

 

 _“I’m not good at speeches, so bear with me, okay?”_ Otabek began while taking a shaky breath. Yuri nodded a little before remembering that Otabek couldn’t see him. _“You already know that JJ dumped me for Bella when we were still together, but what I didn’t tell you is how much a part of my life he was. He was my first and only friend in Canada and we were living together. He was the first person I ever had feelings for, the first person I ever kissed. I was sixteen and head over heels for him and I gave him everything I had because I loved him.”_

 

Otabek paused here and Yuri was afraid to interrupt. It was rare to hear Otabek talk this long and he didn’t want his friend to stop talking, despite how much it was hurting Yuri to hear the words.

 

_“He had girlfriends and boyfriends before me, plus he was a year older, so I saw him as this experienced, suave guy. And he really did love me back. He...he was my first. My first time. I learned everything about sex and intimacy from him. But when Bella came around, he broke it off immediately with me because he wanted to be honest, and well, you know the rest.”_

 

Yuri’s head was pounding in time with his heart as he tried to process all of the information Otabek was throwing his way. Before he could comment, Otabek continued talking as if he couldn’t stop.

 

_“I tried to tell you, so many times, but it just seemed like every time something got in the way. At first it didn’t seem like a huge deal but then you and JJ never got along and I thought you would hate me if you found out. While I realized that wasn’t true, it just...never felt right. I...I’m not ashamed of JJ, but when he kissed me after the banquet I was ashamed of my response because I realized I wasn’t completely over it. I was over him, but not what had happened between us. And then you came into my life and...and I couldn’t risk losing you, as well.”_

 

There’s a pause and Yuri can hear Otabek breathing hard like he’s run a marathon. Before he can say anything, Otabek begins to speak again.

 

 _“I guess I’m still insecure about it,”_ Otabek confessed in a near whisper. _“JJ told me he loved me and left me anyway. I suppose I just feel...like if he did that, why won’t everyone else in my life?_

 

“Oh, Beka,” Yuri said shakily before he can stop himself. His heart was full of conflicting emotions, his feelings for Otabek, dislike for JJ, fading anger from the wedding. But he pushed it all away when he heard Otabek’s voice become small and insecure.

 

“You can’t honestly believe I would do that to you,” Yuri growled. “Fuck, Beka, you’re my best friend! I might think you’re a moron for wanting to be with that Canadian asshole, but I’m not going to cut you out of my life for something you did when you were sixteen. I mean, come _on.”_

 

He heard a shaky, nervous laugh over the line and his heart unclenched a little. Otabek was wrong to walk out on Yuri at the wedding, but Yuri knew he owed Otabek an apology as well. His history with JJ had nothing to do with Yuri and he felt selfish for leaving Otabek in the dark for a week thinking Yuri had abandoned him as well.

 

“Nothing you could do would make me leave you,” Yuri said suddenly, impassionately. “Nothing, Beka. You’re one of the most important people in the world to me, okay? No matter what assholes you date.”

 

He swore he heard Otabek sniff a little, almost like he was holding back tears. _“Yeah. Me...me too, Yura. Me too.”_

 

There was a comfortable silence for a moment while Yuri just listened to Otabek’s steady breathing over the phone. Even if he didn’t have the courage to confess his feelings towards his friend, he was still going to support him.

 

“Come to Russia,” Yuri said softly. “My birthday’s coming up and I need someone to reign in Katsudon and Victor, because they’ve got it in their heads that they’re planning it.”

 

_“When do you want me to come? I’ve got the week off.”_

 

“How soon can you be here?”

 

The next week was a whirlwind of planning and hanging out. Otabek arrived a few days after their call and Yuri had tried to play down how excited he was. At first, he was concerned that there would be lingering awkwardness between him and Otabek, but he was pleased that they fell back into their comfortable routines with no problem.

 

As the days passed, Yuri learned more and more about Otabek and JJ’s past. There were several times he wanted to get JJ on the phone and tear him a new one, but at Otabek’s request he didn’t. His heart ached for his friend, more insecure than Yuri had ever realized. He had always pictured Otabek as the more emotionally stable of both of them, but after several emotional talks, he began to realize that _he_ was Otabek’s rock, his solid ground.

 

It was a fucking _nice_ feeling.

 

Of course, Otabek was there for him as well. Yuri in turn had opened up with his insecurities about his lack of a love life and his embarrassment and humiliation for his former crush on Yuuri. A few times, Yuri nearly confessed that he had gotten over it because of Otabek’s presence in his life, but he couldn’t make himself say it.

 

The night before Yuri’s eighteenth, Otabek was sprawled out on the couch with his head in Yuri’s lap while Yuri absentmindedly ran his fingers through Otabek’s soft curls. He felt a little guilty knowing that each brush of his fingers made him fall a little bit more in love, but he couldn’t bear to pull away. Eventually, Otabek nodded off and his fingers curled against Yuri’s leg in a move that made his heart pound. He let himself doze off like that, pretending that he had everything in the world he ever wanted.

 

_Please, if I can have anything, if I’ve ever done anything good. Please, just let me have this._

 

The next day was a blur, Yuri trying on and throwing around multiple outfits as night approaches. Victor and Yuuri had organized a lot of Yuri’s skating friends to fly in and they were planning on going club hopping. Otabek had asked if Yuri had wanted him to DJ somewhere, but Yuri had selfishly declined, wanting Otabek at his side the whole night.

 

Before Yuri could settle on an outfit, Otabek had surprised him with a small wrapped present.

 

“What’s this?” Yuri asked curiously, moving to tear the paper off of the box.

 

“Happy birthday,” Otabek said simply, sitting on Yuri’s bed and watching him unwrap. When Yuri opened the box, he was confused to see a small velvet box on the inside.

 

“Jewelry?” Yuri asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

Otabek smiled. “Just open it.”

 

Yuri did and mouth dropped. Inside was a leather bracelet, studded with metal and sporting a wooden charm of a tiger.

 

“I made it in my dad’s shop,” Otabek said casually. “Do you like it?”

 

Yuri is momentarily speechless.

 

_He made this? Holy hell, is there anything he can’t do? God, no, focus Yuri, this isn’t time to get lost in your heart right now._

 

“I...fuck, yeah, Beka it’s perfect. Will you help me clasp it?” he asked a little breathlessly.

 

Otabek nodded, coming over and gently slipping the bracelet over Yuri’s wrist, his warm hands brushing against Yuri’s cool skin.

 

“I’m never taking this off,” Yuri declared, admiring how badass it looked on his wrist. Otabek beamed at that and Yuri’s heart swelled with happiness.

 

After hours of preparing, Yuri was standing in front of his full-length mirror, smirking at his reflection. He had decided on skin tight black leggings with a kickass pair of cheetah print boots he had just bought. He was wearing a gold tank top that was artfully torn in places, showing off his pale chest. Finally, Otabek had helped him braid and pull up his hair on the side, his buzzed undercut showing. The bracelet was the only accessory he needed to wear.

 

He looked fucking _fabulous._

 

Stepping out of the room, he almost choked when he saw Otabek leaning against the couch. Yuri swallowed hard as his eyes zoomed to Otabek’s chest. He was wearing a v-neck, a _very_ low cut v-neck, showing of his perfectly sculpted muscles. Yuri sent up a silent prayer of thanks to whoever was listening for this particular fashion invention.

 

“Yura,” Otabek said, eyes wide, “You look amazing.”

 

Blushing in spite of himself, Yuri put a hand on his hip and stared confidentially at him.

 

“Yeah? You’re not so bad yourself.”

 

They grinned at each other for a moment, both with a dusting of pink on their cheeks, before Yuri snapped to his senses. There were a few others in the apartment already as well, Mila and Sara and a few of Yuri’s acquaintances from the rink. The drinking had already started and between all of them they finished a few bottles of vodka before heading out on the town.

 

Yuri was giddy with excitement, pleased beyond belief that so many were coming out for his birthday. When they reached the club, they jumped the line and the bouncers lead them back to a private room that Yuuri and Victor had arranged for them. The club was dark, purple and blue lights spotting through the crowd while the bass thrummed through their bodies.

 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY YURI!” a loud shout rang through when they walked into the VIP room. There were people _everywhere,_ friends of his from the rink, friends of Yuuri’s and of Victor’s. It felt like every person he’d ever known were in the room, raising a glass and celebrating him.

 

He greeted everyone enthusiastically, taking selfies and shots. When he felt pleasantly buzzed, he walked over to a table where his friends were laughing and promptly dropped himself into Otabek’s lap. He grinned when he felt Otabek’s hands snake around his waist to steady him.

 

They talked and laughed for a while, Yuri getting a better view of who was there, the room full to bursting. Some of the people he knew, some he didn’t. Georgi was there with his latest girlfriend. Victor and Yuuri of course, plus a few of their friends. Yuri recognized skaters from his senior season such as Leo and Guang-hong, but they seemed a little preoccupied with one another, trading kisses at the table and closer than even he and Otabek were.

 

Yuri clenched his teeth when he caught sight of JJ and Isabella, talking happily with Victor on the other side of the room. He instinctively drops a hand over Otabek’s at his waist at the sight and was rewarded with Otabek resting his head on Yuri’s shoulder.

 

“Yurachka, let’s go _dance,”_ Mila whined, her arms flung around Sara’s neck. The music from the club was pounding through the wall and Yuri felt a spark of excitement surge through him.

 

“Yeah, one sec, okay Mila? I just have to take care of something,” Yuri said, gently prying Otabek’s hand off of him and shooting him a warm look before marching over towards JJ, unceremoniously yanking him by the shirt over to a quieter corner.

 

JJ looked rightfully confused, staring down at Yuri like he’s not quite sure what to make of him.

 

“Uh...happy birthday, Yuri,” JJ began.

 

Yuri rolled his eyes, looking over at where Otabek was sitting at the table, watching them with a confused gaze.

 

“What I’m about to say stays between us,” Yuri said casually while JJ’s eyes widened.

 

JJ rubbed the back of his head nervously. “Uh...okay?”

 

“I love Beka,” Yuri said strongly, proud as he watched JJ’s eyes widen. “I love him more than I love anyone and if you ever hurt him again, I’ll end you. And that’s a promise.”

 

JJ just stared, seemingly at a loss for words while Yuri turned his back, flipping JJ off and walking over to the table, sitting down on Otabek’s lap again like he belonged there.

 

“What was that about?” Otabek murmured in his ear.

 

Yuri shrugged. “Just giving him some friendly advice. Come on, I’m tired of this. Let’s go dance!”

 

He felt Otabek’s gaze on him, but he just dragged him along by the hand, pulling him out to the dance floor. Several of his friends followed, but Yuri couldn’t care less as he faced Otabek, throwing his arms around his neck. Otabek seemed taken aback at first, but he put his arms on Yuri’s hips, the two of them beginning to sway to the music.

 

After a few songs, the DJ switched over to some more intense dance music and it was getting louder while Otabek was getting closer. The mix of the energy of the room and the slight buzz of the alcohol made Yuri bolder, pressing forward so he was practically grinding against Otabek’s front. He grinned as Otabek’s arms wound further around his waist, snaking up his back. Yuri was sure they were making a scene now, but he couldn’t care less.

 

They dance for what feels like hours, practically no space between them. Yuri had forgotten about everyone else in the club, only focusing on Otabek and how close they were. After a few songs, Yuri boldly moved his hands from Otabek’s shoulders down to grip at the top of his jeans, pulling him, if possible, even closer. He feels Otabek gasp at the movement, pressing his forehead against Yuri’s.

 

It seemed impossible, but maybe Otabek was enjoying this just as much as he was.

 

Otabek was staring into his eyes and it was so intense that Yuri couldn’t look away. He could feel Otabek’s hands on his back, moving in time with the beat and the friction of their hips making Yuri unable to see straight.

 

Before he could think about it, he leaned up and mouthed a kiss at Otabek’s neck, pleased when he felt Otabek start in surprise. After a few moments of tasting his skin, Otabek gently lifted Yuri’s head and crashed their lips together.

 

_Oh my god, we’re kissing._

 

It wasn’t a great kiss, mostly just the mash of their mouths together, but Yuri was so pleased he felt like the cat that got the canary, smug and brash. It was only a moment before Otabek pulled away, looking at Yuri with flushed cheeks, looking not excited, but scared.

 

“Beka…” Yuri said, reaching his hand up before Otabek shook his head minutely and backed away, walking off quickly towards the bathrooms.

 

_Fuck that! He can’t walk away from me again._

 

Yuri tore through the crowd after him, losing him for a moment but finally spotting him leaning up against a wall in the hallway, face in his hands. Yuri was concerned but also angry, so he stormed forward and yanked Otabek’s hands down.

 

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing out of Otabek’s mouth. “I’m sorry...it’s your birthday.”

 

“Fuck my birthday, what the hell was that?” Yuri almost shouted, hands bracing the wall around Otabek’s body.

 

Otabek looked close to tears. “Yuri, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed you like that without asking, I just…”

 

_What the fuck?_

 

“What the hell?” Yuri scoffed. Because, seriously, what the _fuck_ was Otabek thinking? “I don’t care that you kissed me, I cared that you ran off again!”

 

Otabek’s mouth dropped open, staring at Yuri like he couldn’t quite believe he was real. “Why...you don’t...care? I...Yuri what do you mean?”

 

Yuri had had enough.

 

“I fucking _love you,_ you idiot!” he shouted. “I want you kiss me and date me and touch me and I want to pet your fucking hair and go on dates with you and _god_ I want to get my hands on you.”

 

Otabek’s mouth dropped open again and Yuri could swear he saw Otabek getting almost teary.

 

“I love you too,” Otabek said in a small voice, looking like he had just gotten everything he had ever wanted.

 

Yuri grinned at him, hardly able to believe that this was real. The buzz from the alcohol had filled him with confidence and he leaned forward, pushing closer into Otabek’s space.

 

“So, Altin, you’ve got me,” Yuri teased, “What are you going to do about it?”

 

Otabek’s mouth was on his in an instant and it was kissing such as Yuri had never experienced. It wasn’t like the hesitant, sweet kiss they had shared years ago. It was _so_ much better than that, all tongue and lips, a little messy, but open-mouthed and _hot._ It felt unreal to Yuri, to have gotten what he had wanted for so long.

 

They kissed and kissed and _kissed_ , like both of them could do nothing else. Yuri eventually allowed his hands to roam, feeling every muscle of Otabek’s toned chest beneath his fluttering touch.

 

“Oh my god, Yura,” Otabek groaned, pulling away for air, head hitting the wall with a thud. “You have no idea how long. How long I’ve wanted this. Wanted you.”

 

Yuri touched his lips, smirking as he felt them buzzing with the lingering taste of Otabek’s kiss.

 

“Me too. It’s been months, Beka. _Months.”_

 

“Years for me,” Otabek gasped as Yuri leaned down to kiss and bite at his neck. They continued to make out for a while until Yuri began to realize he was shortly going to have a very embarrassing and obvious problem.

 

“Come on,” Otabek growled in his ear, kissing at the side of his neck, hands roaming up the back of Yuri’s shirt. “Let’s get out of here.”

 

Yuri had never moved so fast in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it finally happened! Please leave me a comment and let me know what you thought! <3


	17. the feeling of freedom, of seeing the light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri clearly felt similarly, because a blush came over his face and he rubbed at the back of his hair, a sure sign he was nervous. “I...could you...I mean, do you want to...to touch me?"
> 
> Otabek’s heart stopped.
> 
> “I...yes, fuck,” he stammered a little incoherently, “But...but before we start, let’s set some ground rules, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Surprise, two chapters in one day! 
> 
> Warnings: This chapter is purely about Otabek and Yuri becoming physically intimate, however it is not PWP. Sexual content ahead!

Otabek couldn’t believe what was happening.

 

From the moment they had kissed in the club, he had felt like he was walking in a dream. Yuri loved him. He _loved_ Otabek and all the worries and sadness from the past few years seemed to diminish in an instant as they sat in the back of a taxi, holding hands tightly.

 

When the taxi finally made it back to Yuri’s place, Otabek thrust some money at the driver and eagerly followed him inside. They weren’t speaking, but Yuri clenched his fingers around Otabek’s as he opened the door to the apartment and pulling him inside. Once the door was closed, Yuri turned to him and he suddenly looked far more nervous than he had at the club.

 

“I’ve never…” Yuri stuttered, red in the face, “Beka, you know I’ve never done...anything, before.”

 

Otabek’s heart softened and he walked forward, pulling Yuri into a gentle hug and running his fingers through his hair.

 

“I know,” he replied, “And we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. But I’m up for anything that you want to try.”

 

He could feel Yuri’s breathing hitch while he began to mouth at Otabek’s neck. Yuri trailed kisses up and down Otabek’s throat, cautiously exploring what made Otabek feel good. Otabek backed up into the wall, eyes closed as Yuri fisted his hands in his t-shirt, continuing to mouth at his neck.

 

“Yura,” he gasped, trying to get his attention, “Yuri. _Yurachka.”_

 

Yuri pulled back with a cocky grin and an arched eyebrow, pupils dark and lips red.

 

“I’m sorry, can I help you with something?” he smirked.

 

_Oh my god, he’s already a monster._

 

Otabek groaned. “Fuck, Yura, if you keep doing that, I...I…”

 

Yuri smirked wider, pressing up into Otabek’s space. “I want you to teach me,” he whispered in Otabek’s ear, “Everything you know how to do.”

 

_Holy. Shit._

 

“E-everything?” Otabek gasped, Yuri’s hands now in his hair.

 

Yuri nodded. “I’m going to shower. Get clean. You should too.”

 

Otabek could only watch as Yuri sauntered into the bathroom in his bedroom, shutting the door and turning on the shower. Trying to remain under control, Otabek launched himself into the guest bathroom, giving himself a quick, _very_ thorough wash.

 

When he had finished, he didn’t bother redressing fully, only grabbing a clean pair of boxers from his suitcase and slipping them on, hearing the water still running in Yuri’s shower. Trembling slightly, he lay down on Yuri’s bed and tried to keep his thoughts under control.

 

He must have dozed off, because after a time he felt a smooth hand on his cheek and he looked up to see Yuri, dressed only in a pair of boxers as well, leaning down over him.

 

“Hey, are you up for this tonight?” Yuri asked in concern, running a gentle hand through Beka’s hair. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

 

Otabek was instantly awake, sitting up and pressing a soft kiss to Yuri’s lips.

 

“I want to do anything you want to do,” he said softly after he had pulled away, a little awkward. At the club everything had been heated and sensual, but now, back in Yuri’s space with the lights on and the two of them alone, Otabek felt a nervous fluttering in his heart.

 

Yuri clearly felt similarly, because a blush came over his face and he rubbed at the back of his hair, a sure sign he was nervous. “I...could you...I mean, do you want to...to touch me?”

 

Otabek’s heart stopped.

 

“I... _yes,_ fuck,” he stammered a little incoherently, “But...but before we start, let’s set some ground rules, okay?”

 

Yuri nodded, looking both nervous and intrigued.

 

Otabek swallowed, thinking back to what had helped him in the early days of his sexual experiences. “We’ll ask before we do anything different and if either of us says ‘stop’, we stop immediately, obviously. Does that sound okay?”

 

Yuri nodded. “I...yes. And um, lube and condoms? We’ll...need those, for things.”

 

His face was beet red and his hands contorted in the sheets, but Otabek was pleased he asked.

 

“Yes, I agree, lube is necessary and condoms are safer,” Otabek said softly, “I have some things in my suitcase.”

 

Yuri grinned, looking a little less unsure. “You brought condoms? You sly dog.”

 

Otabek laughed, standing up and walking over to his suitcase, pulling out a small bottle of lube and a couple of condoms for him and Yuri.

 

“Can never be too prepared,” Otabek grinned, sitting down on the bed in front of him. They look at one another for a few long moments, Yuri bringing up a hand to curl in Otabek’s hair. After a moment, they bring their lips together, kissing and kissing, kissing like Otabek had never experienced.

 

With JJ, he had been nervous,, young, and unsure. It had taken weeks for him to come out of his shell in bed. But Yuri was different, instead he was leading them, pushing Otabek down into the mattress and leaning over him, grinding their hips together.

 

The flash of pleasure that surged through Otabek’s body was intense, and he threw back his head, eyes closed.

 

“Feel good?” Yuri asked gently, “Is that okay?”

 

“Yes,” Otabek responded, pleased that Yuri was taking the lead. “You can do more of that if you want.”

 

Yuri grinned above him, threading his fingers through one of Otabek’s hands and gripping the sheets with the other. He’s a vision on top of Otabek, slowly grinding down on top of him through their boxers. It’s sexy, it’s unreal, and it’s unlike anything Otabek has ever experienced. Yuri doesn’t seem to be in a rush at all, just slowly getting used to his own pleasure.

 

“This...is good…” Yuri gasped as their cocks rubbed together through their shorts just right. “Fuck, it’s good.”

 

“Yeah,” Otabek agreed, looking up at Yuri in adoration. “You can go harder, you won’t hurt me.”

 

Those words seemed to light a fire in Yuri, who quickly doubled his pace and began rolling his hips into Otabek’s at an almost brutal pace and Otabek gasped loudly, eyes closed in pleasure as Yuri rocked into him.

 

“You look so fucking good,” Yuri growled breathlessly, “Fuck, Beka.”

 

Through his cloud of lust, Otabek was surprised by how in control Yuri seemed to be, but he supposed it wasn’t out of character. He opened his eyes, rewarded with the sight of Yuri’s magnificent body above him, dotted with sweat and biting his lip, looking lost in the pleasure of it.

 

“Yura,” Otabek whined, “Yura, if you want... _fuck_ ...if you want to do more we’ve got to... _ah_...take it slower.”

 

Yuri sighed above him, slowing the movement of his hips, getting in a few more deliciously good thrusts before shifting off of him.

 

“You should take my boxers off,” Yuri growled, attempting to sound nonchalant.

 

Otabek barked a laugh. “Oh I should, huh? Well maybe you should take off mine.”

 

“Is that a challenge?” Yuri teased, resting his head on Otabek’s chest and sliding it down to the top of his underwear.

 

Otabek was unable to answer, throat dry as he hooked his thumbs in the top of Yuri’s boxers. Yuri sighed, pleased as he slid out of his underwear, Otabek swallowing hard and tossing them to the side.

 

Yuri was blushing, but Otabek could only scan him up and down, marveling at how beautiful Yuri looked, how perfect every inch of his body was.

 

“You’re amazing,” he said a little breathlessly, barely registering as Yuri worked Otabek’s boxers down, flinging them across the room. Otabek felt the rush of air and he looked up at Yuri, feeling a rush of giddiness come to his head, a brilliant smile coming to his face.

 

Yuri looked down at him adoringly, cupping his face. “I’ve never seen you smile like that before,” he whispered.

 

Otabek turned his head, kissing Yuri’s palm before answering. “That’s because I don’t. I...I never thought I could have this, Yuri. I love you so much.”

 

Yuri looked a little emotional, looking at Otabek like he was something precious.

 

“I love you, too,” he said softly. “Now touch me.”

 

Otabek laughed, bringing his hands up to lovingly trace up and down Yuri’s chest, his hands getting lower and lower.

 

“Lay on your back,” he said softly, watching as Yuri turned over, looking up at Otabek while he took slow, deep breaths. Otabek kissed Yuri’s knee and down his thigh, before resting a hand on Yuri’s lower stomach, reaching over and grabbing the lube.

 

“Can I put my hand on you?” he asked, holding up the bottom.

 

“Fuck yeah,” Yuri said breathlessly, gasping when Otabek opened the bottle of lube, rubbing some on his hands before he wrapped his hand around Yuri’s cock, moving slowly.

 

“Oh my _god,”_ Yuri groaned, “Feels so good, holy _fuck.”_

 

Otabek continued to touch him reverently, pressing soft kisses to his inner thighs while Yuri made delicious little sounds. After a while Yuri pulled Otabek down into a bruising kiss, moaning into his mouth and dragging his nails across Otabek’s back. It was good, too good, and Otabek pulled off before he could bring Yuri to his finish.

 

“I want to do that to you,” Yuri panted, face flush. Otabek could only nod, laying back on the bed while Yuri put some of the lube over his hands and leaning down towards Otabek.

 

“Tell me if I’m doing it wrong,” Yuri said nervously, looking a little scared.

 

Otabek sat up a little, pressing a kiss to Yuri’s lips. “You’ll be great,” he said gently, “Just touch me like you touch yourself.”

 

Yuri’s breath hitched as he nodded, reaching down and wrapping a hand around Otabek’s cock.

 

Otabek was fairly certain he was dreaming. There was nothing on earth that could possibly feel as good as Yuri’s hand, nothing that could possibly be as amazing as the feeling of them connected like this. Each stroke, Otabek would moan louder, head thrashing as he fisted the sheets.

 

“Holy fuck, Beka,” Yuri said breathlessly, looking down at him, “You...god, you’re so _responsive.”_

 

Otabek moaned at that, Yuri running his hand teasingly over him. He wasn’t sure where his mouthiness was coming from as he had never been like this in bed with JJ.

 

“Tell me what you want,” Yuri said suddenly, speeding up his hand.

 

Otabek cried out at one particularly good stroke. “I... _ah..._ fuck, I... _yes, there,_ oh god Yura, I want your fingers, I want you in me.”

 

Yuri stopped the motion of his hand and Otabek opened his eyes and saw Yuri looking shocked above him.

 

“You...you want _me_ to...inside you?” Yuri said, mouth agape, “Beka, I thought…”

 

Otabek tried to get a hold of his brain, but he was still on fire from Yuri’s touch. “I switch,” he gasped, breathing hard, “I...I like it both ways. And being on top is easier...for your first time.”

 

“Fucking hell,” Yuri gasped, leaning down and kissing Otabek hungrily before pulling away. “Beka, are you _sure?”_

 

Otabek was more in control now, sitting up and running a soft hand through Yuri’s hair.

 

“Yes. But only if you want to,” Otabek murmured, “I’m fine with your fingers and your dick in me. I’ll talk you through it, okay?”

 

“Shit,” Yuri gasped, leaning forward and devouring Otabek’s lips. They kissed for what felt like hours, tongues clashing and hands roaming. Their hands explored everywhere, giving each other’s cocks a few strokes before Yuri pulled off, panting.

 

“Fuck yes,” he growled, lips red with spit and hair mused, eyes dark with lust. “God, I want to fuck you so bad, Beka. And when we’re done, you can fuck me.”

 

Otabek groaned, falling on his back, looking up at Yuri reverently.

 

“Please,” he whimpered, “Yura, _please.”_

 

Yuri reached over, grabbing a condom with shaky hands, putting it next to him before applying a liberal amount of lube to his fingers.

 

“I...Beka, love, you’ve got to tell me what to do,” Yuri said, a little breathlessly, looking down at him, hair framing his face like a halo.

 

Otabek’s heart swelled with fondness and love, sinking down into the pillows and spreading his legs.

 

“Start with one,” he mumbled, “Trace the opening.”

 

Yuri did and Otabek gasped, hips moving against him on their own accord. After enough teasing, Otabek wanted it.

 

“Now, gentle, Yura, please...in me,” he babbled, the sensations making him feeling like he was falling apart.

 

The first press of Yuri’s finger burned, but not too terribly, and Otabek’s hips surged forward.

 

“I can’t believe I’m fingering you right now,” Yuri gasped, looking down as Otabek thrust against him. “Holy shit, Beka, you look so good.”

 

Otabek was unable to speak, lost to sensation as Yuri continued to press inside him. After a while, he began to crave more fullness and he parted his lips, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

 

“A...another…” he gasped, gripping the sheets, “Feels...so good…”

 

Yuri slipped in another, beginning to get more bold as he scissored them inside of Otabek, crooking them up and searching for his prostate.

 

When he finally brushed against it, Otabek cried out, his back arching and eyes closed in pleasure, toes curling. It had been so long since he had felt it and it felt more than amazing.

 

“Jesus,” Yuri exhaled softly, watching Otabek fall apart.

 

Otabek thrust against him now, wanting nothing more than to feel all of Yuri inside him, but he knew he needed more preparation before they went that far. Yuri had caught on now, and gently pressed in a third finger, Otabek letting out a low groan of pleasure before beginning to lose himself completely.

 

“Yes, yes, _fuck,_ Yura, baby, fuck me, I’m ready, please, please, _please,”_ he whined, needy and desperate. He hissed in protest as Yuri slid the fingers from inside him and Otabek looked up, pleased to see Yuri wrecked as he did.

 

“This...this isn’t gonna last long,” Yuri said, looking a little embarrassed, and Otabek swallowed when he saw how hard Yuri was.

 

“Don’t care,” he gasped, “Fuck, I just need you in me, now, _now.”_

 

Yuri groaned, tearing open the package and sliding the condom over himself clumsily, adding liberal amounts of lube as he stroked himself.

 

“T-turn over,” Yuri said breathlessly while Otabek turned so he was on all fours. When he felt the press of Yuri’s cock at his entrance, he moaned, fisting the sheets below him and spreading his legs a little wider. Yuri pressed in, centimeter by centimeter, and Otabek gasped and groaned through the whole thing. When Yuri bottomed out, he stayed motionless, although Otabek could feel him trembling.

 

“Fuck, Beka, can I move?” Yuri gasped and Otabek nodded.

 

“Yes, yes, please,” he said and Yuri began to shift his hips, Otabek moaning. Nothing he had ever experienced in his life had ever felt like this, this _good._ Yuri’s thrusts were uneven, stuttering, as he got used to fucking him, but Otabek couldn’t think of anything more perfect.

 

“Yura, Yura, Yura,” he chanted like a mantra while Yuri fucked into him, before he felt Yuri tensing up behind him.

 

“Shit, Beka, I can’t last,” he cried, gripping onto Otabek’s hips so tightly he thought he would bruise.

 

“It’s okay, come, please, come,” Otabek gasped, Yuri silently falling apart behind him. Through his orgasm, Yuri managed to keep thrusting his hips, fucking Otabek through it as he spilled into the condom. Otabek cried out at the sensation, painfully hard as Yuri stuttered inside of him.

 

“Fuck,” Yuri whispered behind him when he had come down. Otabek was still rock hard and could feel the softening length of Yuri inside of him.

 

“Yura,” he whined, desperate for release. Yuri reached forward, wrapping a hand over Otabek’s cock and stroking him quickly. The sensation of Yuri inside of him combined with his hand quickly pushed Otabek over the edge, crying out as he came. His whole body shook and spasmed, easily the most intense orgasm of his life.

 

“Oh my god,” Yuri said over him, watching him as he continued to shake through it.

 

Otabek gasped, breathing heavily as Yuri gently pulled out, laying down on the bed next to him. They caught their breath, hands intertwined as they both looked at the ceiling. After a few moments, Otabek began to giggle, dizzily happy from the endorphins of his orgasm.

 

“Fuck,” he laughed, giddy, “Yura, I think you fucked my brains out.”

 

He felt Yuri laugh next to him, rolling over and kissing Otabek messily.

 

“Damn right,” Yuri grinned cockily, “And after we catch our breath, you can do it to me. God, you’re so _loud_ Beka. Are you that loud when you top?”

 

“Only if it’s really good sex,” Otabek smiled, rubbing Yuri’s hand, "Happy birthday, by the way."

 

Yuri laughed again. “So, it was as good for you as it was for me, huh? Should have figured I’d be a sex prodigy, especially with a teacher like you.”

 

Otabek smirked, surging up and kissing Yuri hungrily, flipping him so he was overtop of him. They kissed lazily for what felt like hours, both of them oblivious to anything besides each other. As the night transitioned into the morning, Otabek got his mouth on Yuri’s cock and in turn taught Yuri how to blow him. When they didn’t think the other could take anymore teasing, Otabek fingered Yuri until he was ready, and Otabek fucked him, gentle and sweet, into the mattress, until they were both coming, harder than they had come all night.

 

When they both were utterly spent, Otabek laid his head down on Yuri, breathing hard from their activities.

 

“I love you so much,” Otabek murmured, pressing a kiss to Yuri’s chest.

 

Yuri kissed his head, pulling him close. “I love you, too.”

 

“Be my boyfriend,” Otabek said sleepily. Yuri’s breath hitched before he pressed another soft kiss to Otabek’s forehead.

 

“Fuck yeah,” Yuri whispered, “We’re going to be the hottest couple in the skating circuit.”

 

Otabek chuckled, eyes beginning to get droopy. “Just...don’t tell the press I like kittens and Disney movies when they ask about us. It’ll ruin my rep.”

 

Yuri laughed. “I won’t, if you swear you won’t tell them about how I cried about how much I loved you when you were blowing me.”

 

They continued to talk and laugh for a while until they drifted off to sleep, entangled in each other. Otabek’s last thoughts before he went to sleep were of pure, unconditional, and blissful love for the young man he was wrapped up with.

 

_Yura, I love you more than you will ever know. I can’t believe we finally got here. From all those crushes and missed opportunities, to us. It was you. It’s always been, and it always will be._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this! Please leave me a comment and let me know what you think!


	18. epilogue: that would be enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being with Beka was easy, easy as breathing. A few months back after his birthday, they had made their relationship public. They had expected some waves, but were surprised to find that everyone already thought they had been a couple. It kind of bummed Yuri out a little as he was somewhat looking towards the shock factor, but on the other hand he was beyond pleased everyone could see what a great pair they made together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we've reached the end! This is a chapter for some small snapshots, open-ended for whatever may come in their future. I hope you enjoy!

 

 ****The morning after their first time, Otabek was greeted with the beautiful sight of Yuri’s angelic face inches from his. He spent a few minutes just looking at his boyfriend, memorizing every inch of his body with a fond smile.

 

_ I have no idea how I got you, but I love you and I’m not going to let you go. _

 

 

A few weeks after they became official, Yuri introduced Otabek to his grandfather. Otabek had met Nikolai before, but never as Yuri’s boyfriend. Sweating bullets, Otabek didn’t let go of Yuri’s hand until Nikolai pulled him into a warm embrace and said, “Watch out for him. Keep him safe.”

 

Yuri was blushing, but Otabek swore that he would. If that made Yuri tear up a little, he wasn’t confessing it to anyone.

 

 

A few months into dating Yuri, Otabek finally worked up the courage to call JJ. Yuri helped, reassuring Otabek that nothing bad would happen and that he needed to be honest with JJ about how he had hurt him. He shook nervously as he dialed JJ’s number, scared to begin the conversation. 

 

When the phone began to ring, Yuri pressed a kiss to Otabek’s forehead and left the room to give him space to talk. Otabek wished Yuri had remained, but he understood this is something he needed to do alone.

 

_ “Bonjour, Beks!” _ JJ said on the other line,  _ “How are you?” _

 

Otabek swallowed hard, unsure of how to begin. “I...JJ, can we talk? Do you have a minute?”

 

_ “Yeah, Bells is out and I have the day off today. What’s up?” _

 

Otabek heard the sound of JJ rustling around, sounding like he had taken a seat. He bit his lip, swallowing again and thinking about how he was going to begin. 

 

_ “Otabek? You still there?”  _ JJ asked in concern.

 

“Yes,” Otabek said quickly. “I wanted to talk about what happened between us, if that’s alright.”

 

There was a pause before JJ hesitantly responded with a soft,  _ “Alright.” _

 

Otabek laid down on his back, rubbing his temples with his phone pressed to his ear. His heart was thudding with nerves and he wanted nothing more than to back out, but he knew he owed it to JJ and to himself to be honest.

 

“I love Yuri,” Otabek began. “Nothing I’m saying here is changing that. I don’t have feelings for you in that way anymore. But some of the things that happened between us are causing stress in my relationship and I felt like I needed to talk to you about them.”

 

_ “Okay, Beks. I’m listening.” _

 

Otabek rubbed at his temples and began to talk, pouring out every bit of insecurity and fear of abandonment that he had felt since his and JJ’s breakup. He talked about loneliness, how JJ asking for him to be his best man was like a knife through his chest, and how the kiss at the banquet in Barcelona had ruined him for a while. 

 

He talked for what felt like hours while JJ stayed silent. He expressed his fears that Yuri would leave him in the same way that JJ did, even though he knew it was irrational. How Otabek had never felt like quite enough after JJ had dumped him. When he finally finished his speech, he could hear unsteady breathing on the other line.

 

“JJ?” Otabek asked nervously, voice hoarse from talking so much.

 

_ “I’m so sorry,”  _ JJ whispered, voice cracking.  _ “I knew I had hurt you, but Otabek...I never meant to make you feel like that. I was trying so hard to be honest, I thought it would be easier. Tell me what I can do to make it up to you.” _

 

Otabek smiled. “JJ, there’s nothing to make up. You apologized, you were honest with me. It was my fault that I took it so hard.”

 

 _“No, stop. It was mine,”_ JJ said in a rush, “ _I never should have let you go to Almaty like that. I should have stayed and talked you through it. I should have called you and let you know how I was feeling. I should have...god, Otabek, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I can do to make it better, but I’m sorry.”_

 

“It’s okay,” Otabek replied, and he realized then that it was. It really was. 

 

_ “You know, Yuri told me he’d end me if I ever hurt you,” _ JJ laughed. 

 

Otabek perked up. “He said  _ what?” _

 

_ “Yeah, he came up to me on his birthday and said he loved you and that if I ever hurt you again, he’d end me. It was scary as hell.” _

 

Otabek smiled, heart thumping at the thought of Yuri defending him so ardently. 

 

“He really is perfect for me,” Otabek said softly, playing with the bedsheets.

 

_ “He is,” _ JJ agreed before clearing his throat and continuing.  _ “You know I’ll always love you, right Beks? You were my first love. Can’t forget that, no matter what. You’re always going to be one of the most important people in my life and I really hope we can go back to being best friends. It’s sucked not having you around these past few years. I don’t want to lose your friendship.” _

 

“Me either,” Otabek said softly, “Hey, are you and Bella coming to Victor and Yuuri’s wedding? We could hang out then. Yuri is Victor’s best man, so we’re flying in a few days early. Want to join?”

 

_ “Hell yes!” _

 

They talked for a while, shifting from their past feelings to talking about easy things, like JJ’s band and Otabek’s DJing. After a while, JJ said Bella was home and he needed to get off the line.

 

_ “I’ll see you in Hasetsu, Beks.” _

 

“Yeah, see you Jean.”

 

Otabek hung up and he splayed his arms out on the bed, feeling like he had just run a marathon and a heavy weight had been lifted off of his chest. Hearing a soft knock on the door, he looked up to see the concerned face of his boyfriend looking down at him.

 

“You okay?” Yuri asked.

 

Otabek nodded, sitting up with his arms outstretched. 

 

“Yes. Come here.”

 

Yuri melted into his embrace and they spent the next hour just holding each other, peppering small, soft kisses against the other’s skin and sharing gentle touches.

 

“Thank you,” Otabek murmured, pressing a kiss to Yuri’s hair. “You’re the most important person in the world to me.”

 

“I love you, too,” Yuri said in response, sighing happily as their hands intertwined. "I'm never letting you go."  
  


 

A few weeks later, they found themselves on a beautiful beach in Hasetsu for Victor and Yuuri's wedding. It was a quiet ceremony and Yuri had honestly expected more pomp and circumstance. But with his boyfriend at his side and watching his friends tie the knot, he found he didn’t have a whole lot to complain about.

 

Being with Beka was  _ easy, _ easy as breathing. A few months back after his birthday, they had made their relationship public. They had expected some waves, but were surprised to find that everyone already thought they had been a couple. It kind of bummed Yuri out a little as he was somewhat looking towards the shock factor, but on the other hand he was beyond pleased everyone could see what a great pair they made together.

 

Their relationship wasn’t perfect; Yuri could be mouthy and temperamental while Otabek could be a stoic bundle of insecurity, but together they worked through the tough times and Yuri was never concerned that their relationship would end.

 

Holding hands with Otabek now, he looked at Yuuri and Victor tearfully exchanging rings and his heart leaps at the idea of someday doing this with Otabek. Dropping his head on Otabek’s shoulder, he looked out towards the waves, filled with something like a soft affection for those around him. 

 

“I love you,” he murmured in Otabek’s ear as the ceremony reached its end. “So much.”

 

Otabek turned towards him, smiling brilliant and bright. Yuri thought he would die every day a thousand times over if it meant seeing his boyfriend smile like that.

 

“I love you too,” Otabek smiled. “That’s going to be us someday.”

 

Yuri’s heart skipped a beat at the promise of a future engagement as he settled back down on Otabek’s shoulder clapping and cheering along with everyone else as Victor and Yuuri kissed. 

 

After tearful speeches and first dances, food and drink were served and the party continued. After a few intense dance songs, Yuri felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up to see JJ standing with Isabella, looking over at Otabek.

 

“Can I borrow him for a moment?” JJ asked Yuri softly. Yuri looked at Otabek, who gave kind of a confused shrug.

 

“Sure,” Yuri said, watching in interest as JJ gestured further down the beach. As they walked away, Yuri and Bella found a table with Mila and Sara, sitting and drinking wine while the DJ continued the dance songs. JJ and Otabek sat down in the sand and it looked like they were talking, nothing more.

 

Yuri looked out towards the sea, smiling sadly as he watched JJ and Otabek sitting next to each other. He was sad for both of them, that this thing they were talking out had taken over three years and two weddings to get through. Yuri had seen firsthand how much insecurity Otabek still had in his life from the way JJ had left him and he hoped now this conversation, plus the phone call they had a few weeks before, would help.

 

He and Bella both sat next to each other, making casual conversations as both of their partners continued to talk. After some time had passed, Yuri watched Otabek and JJ both stand and exchange a hug before walking back up to the table. JJ headed straight over to Bella, whispering in her ear and pulling her onto the dance floor.

 

“Hey,” Yuri said to Otabek, who came over and gave Yuri a soft kiss. 

 

“Take a walk with me?” Otabek asked gently and Yuri nodded.

 

Hand in hand, they walked in silence along the beach, the sunset beautiful and the water sparkling. With each step, Yuri was reminded of how far they had come over the last few years. It seemed like an incredible story, but to him it was natural. It was always supposed to be the two of them. It had just taken a few years and some pain to get there.  They weren’t alone on the beach, but it felt as if they were in their own world, saying nothing and yet sharing everything. After a healthy amount of time had passed, Yuri turned and kissed Otabek gently, resting a hand on his face.

 

Otabek sighed, eyes closing. Yuri was going to give a speech, going to tell Otabek how much he loved him, how much he had longed for their relationship, how he had pined for him. But in the sunset with the waves crashing on the shore and their hands intertwined, Yuri found he didn’t need to say anything at all.

 

The way Otabek was looking at him was enough.

 

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of the amazing support during my writing of this fic. Your kudos and incredible comments were so helpful and motivating, and I truly hope you enjoyed the end of this story! <3
> 
> Please come say hi to me on [Tumblr!](http://kanekkis.tumblr.com)


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